Power of the Slayer
by Supervillegirl
Summary: Whatever happened to the new Slayer when Buffy died in "The Gift"? Enter Dean Winchester...
1. Chapter 1

Power of the Slayer

Chapter One

**Takes place as Buffy Season 5 ends and Supernatural Season 4 begins.**

Glory fell to her knees, her nose bleeding, as Buffy Summers stood over her with the troll god's hammer.

Glory looked up at Buffy, gasping and on the verge of tears. "Stop it…"

"You're a god," Buffy growled at her. She swung the hammer at Glory's face, knocking her back onto the ground. "Make it stop."

Buffy walked over and knelt beside Glory, raising the hammer and hitting her in the face over and over and over again. Glory lay on the floor, blood all over her face and struggling against the pain. She suddenly morphed into her brother Ben, and Buffy lowered the hammer.

"I'm sorry," Ben told her.

"Tell her it's over," Buffy spat at him. "She missed her shot. She goes. She ever, _ever_ comes near me and mine again…"

"We won't," said Ben quickly. "I swear."

Buffy dropped the hammer on the floor and hurried away towards the stairs to the tower.

****************************************************************SPN********************************************************

Dean Winchester closed his eyes tight against the images around him. Horrible, inhuman screams echoed all around him in this nightmare place. He desperately prayed that they wouldn't send him another poor victim to torture, and yet, a small part of him that he did not want to acknowledge actually wondered how much he could make this one scream.

He couldn't really remember how many souls he had destroyed, and yet he could still remember each and every face as it pleaded with him to stop, to just end it. He couldn't imagine what was going on at the surface, nor did he really care. His entire world consisted of one endless scream after another—most of the time, his own.

Dean wasn't really sure what was going on around him at the moment, though. Something seemed to be happening, as though the demons were on edge. No, more than that—they were scared. Something was coming…

***********************************************************SPN************************************************************

Buffy climbed up the ladder to the tower, reaching the top and finding some old guy in front of her little sister Dawn, slicing her sides with a butcher knife.

"…flow…free…" he was saying.

"Dawn," said Buffy, walking towards them.

"Buffy!" Dawn gasped in pain.

The man turned towards her, holding the knife in front of him. "This should be interesting."

Buffy didn't even flinch or break stride; she just shoved him right off the tower on her way to Dawn.

"Here," said Buffy, fiddling with the restraints on Dawn's wrists.

"Buffy, it hurts," moaned Dawn as blood began dripping onto her feet.

"I got it," said Buffy. "Come here. You're gonna be okay." She unclasped the restraints and wrapped an arm around her sister.

Blood dripped from Dawn's toes and fell through the air, stopping in midair as a small circle of light appeared where her blood had touched. The circle of light grew, opening up into a portal.

Buffy led Dawn towards the stairs until Dawn stopped and turned to her. "Go!"

Dawn looked down at the portal and back at her sister. "Buffy, it's started."

Buffy turned, and they watched as the portal grew larger, creating a giant hole under them. A bolt of lightning surged from the portal and hit the main street below, caving the street in as people screamed. A building was hit by another lightning bolt, incinerating it instantly.

Buffy looked back at her sister.

"I'm sorry," Dawn told her quietly.

Buffy shook her head. "It doesn't matter."

Dawn darted to the side, making to run towards the end of the platform.

Buffy grabbed her by the shoulders, pushing her back. "What are you doing?"

"I have to jump," Dawn told her. "The energy."

"It'll kill you!" Buffy told her.

"I know," Dawn said quietly. "Buffy, I know about the ritual. I have to stop it."

"No," said Buffy.

The tower shook underneath them, making them both stumble.

"I have to!" Dawn insisted. "Look at what's happening!"

Buffy looked around as more lightning crackled. A huge dragon burst out of the portal and buzzed the tower, flying away.

"Buffy, you have to let me go," Dawn told her. "Blood starts it, and until the blood stops flowing, it'll never stop."

Buffy stared at Dawn in anguish.

"You know you have to let me," said Dawn as a tear fell down her face. "It has to have the blood."

Buffy froze at those last words, remembering everything that had happened over the past year.

"'_Cause it's always got to be blood," said Spike as he sat in The Magic Box._

_Buffy put her hand to her chest wound. "It's Summers blood." She placed her blood-covered hand in Dawn's own blood-covered hand. "It's just like mine."_

"_She's me," Buffy told her friends. "The monks made her out of me."_

"_Death is your gift," the First Slayer told her in her desert quest._

"_Death…" said Buffy._

Buffy stared at Dawn, the truth dawning on her.

"…_is your gift…"_

Buffy slowly turned towards the end of the platform, watching as the sun rose in the distance. She turned back towards Dawn with a calm face.

Dawn stared at her with wide eyes, already knowing what Buffy was going to say. "Buffy…no!"

"Dawnie, I have to," said Buffy.

"No!" Dawn exclaimed.

"Listen to me," Buffy told her. "Please, there's not a lot of time, listen."

*****************************************************SPN****************************************************************

Dean reluctantly opened his eyes to see what was going on. His eyes were immediately greeted by demons and blood and torture and gore, and he winced, wanting to look away from it again. But something kept him from looking away: a sense that something big was going down. It wasn't often that demons got afraid when they were in their element like this.

Something was shining off in the distance, surging its way through the demons and the chains. Dean frowned as he squinted against the otherworldly light, trying to make out what it was. Whatever creature or person the light was, it appeared to be headed straight for him.

**********************************************************SPN*******************************************************

Buffy stroked the side of Dawn's face and kissed her tenderly on the cheek, giving her a reassuring smile as tears began to fall down Dawn's face. Buffy turned and ran down the platform towards the end of it as Dawn burst into tears. Buffy leapt off the platform, swan-diving into the portal underneath it. She fell into the portal and hung there, wincing in pain. The portal began to writhe as Buffy convulsed inside of it.

"_Dawn, listen to me," said Buffy. "Listen. I love you. I will __**always**__ love you. But this is the work that I have to do."_

Buffy slowly stopped convulsing and closed her eyes as the portal shrunk and disappeared in a flash. The sun rose on the warehouse as Willow, Tara, Giles, Xander and Anya approached the pavement under the tower.

"_Tell Giles…tell Giles I figured it out," said Buffy. "And—and I'm okay."_

The five of them stared at Buffy's lifeless body lying amid the debris. Spike fell to the ground, crying as he stared at Buffy's body.

"_And give my love to my friends," said Buffy. "You have to take care of them now. You have to take care of each other. You have to be strong."_

Dawn slowly came down the stairs of the tower, holding her sides in pain. She spotted Buffy's body and began to cry again.

"_Dawn, the hardest thing in this world…is to live in it," said Buffy. "Be brave…live…for me."_

_**********************************************************SPN****************************************************************_

Dean tried to shy away as the blinding figure drew closer to him, reaching a hand out for him. For some reason, Dean could feel a sense of calm emanating from the figure, which threw him off at once. For all he knew, that was the figure's way of luring people into a false sense of security. He turned and began to run away from whatever this was when he felt something latch onto his left shoulder.

Dean suddenly felt himself surging backwards, the creature with a hold on him dragging him upwards. Dean yelled as he tried to fight the figure, but the creature was too strong for him. As the creature gripped onto him, he felt everything getting lighter and less oppressive, as though he were waking up from a deep sleep.

Without warning, the world went dark, and Dean felt a jolt through his whole body as everything became suddenly sharp and distinct—more real than what he'd felt the past forty years. And as his world snapped to attention, he felt something surge within him, filling him with a strength he'd never felt before. He pulled in a harsh breath, his throat protesting the rough treatment. He tried to sit up quickly, but his head collided with something not one foot in front of his face.

Dean coughed a couple of times, his throat screaming at him. He reached his hand into his pocket and pulled out his lighter, flicking it a couple times before it sparked to life. He found himself inside a pine box coffin, and he looked around his confines in confusion.

_Am I back?_

"Help!"

His voice was so hoarse, like he hadn't used it in…forty years. He coughed as his voice scratched against his throat.

"Help! Help!"

Dean raised his hand and banged against the wood panels in front of him, but nothing budged. Clenching his jaw in frustration, he pulled his arm back as far as it would go and surged it forward, punching right through the wood and into dirt. He brought his arm back, and dirt began pouring through the hole onto his face. He turned his head to the side and took in a deep breath, punching through the wood again and pulling it apart.

Dean surged through the dirt, trying to pull himself up and out. He was surprised to find himself moving through the dirt fairly easy. Before long, he felt his hand break through to air, and he grabbed onto the ground with both hands, pulling his head towards the surface. He pulled in a huge breath when the dirt fell away. He groaned as he pulled his torso and legs out of the dirt, and he fell back onto the ground, panting.

Dean finally stood and looked down at the cross at the head of a turned-up area of dirt. He then caught a look at the area around the grave: a bunch of trees toppled over, all spraying out from the grave. He couldn't help but wonder if the otherworldly creature that he had seen had been the one that had pulled him out. If so…it must have been pretty powerful to cause this to happen.

Dean took a second look around, feeling something inside of him…He felt strong…alive…


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

**The next few chapters will be Supernatural-centric to give enough time for Buffy to be dead before she comes back, but don't worry. Buffy and the Scooby Gang will join us later! (How could I not let them discover a male Slayer?)**

Dean walked along an empty road, his jacket tied around his waist in the heat. He had been walking for two miles at least, and he knew he should be tired from the heat and lack of water, but he still felt strong enough to walk another ten miles. He didn't understand it. After having just come back from the dead, he shouldn't be feeling this good. He just wanted to get to Sam or Bobby for answers.

Dean looked up and spotted a gas station just around a clump of trees. He headed towards it, hoping to find a phone and—hopefully—some water. Unfortunately, it looked as though it was deserted. He walked up to the door, peering through the glass.

"Hello?" he called hoarsely.

_God, I need some water, _he thought.

Seeing no one inside and getting no response, Dean took the jacket from around his waist and wrapped it around his hand. He braced himself and then swung at the glass by the doorknob to break it.

With a bang, the door flew off its hinges and slammed into the shelving unit inside, collapsing to the floor. Dean stared wide-eyed at the door, his hand still raised in front of him.

"What the…" Dean muttered, looking down in apprehension at his hand.

_No, no, no…_ he thought in fear. _No, it's not possible…I came back a demon, no…_

Dean's eyes swept the inside of the abandoned, run-down gas station.

_Oh, my God…I was down there so long…This place is abandoned…No, no, no…_

As he looked around the store, he spotted the fridge in the corner with bottles of water inside of it. Forgetting his predicament in the face of his thirst, he headed straight for the cooler and opened it, pulling a bottle of water out and chugging it. The cold water felt so good on his parched throat. He took several deep breaths as he leaned against the cooler.

It seemed to come to him as he rested there that this place couldn't have been run down; they obviously stocked the cooler and paid the electric bill regularly. Maybe this place was just cheap. He looked down next to the cooler and spotted a stack of newspapers.

_Perfect,_ Dean thought. _A date…_

Dean grabbed the paper off the top and read the date under the title: Thursday, September 18, 2008.

"September?" Dean mumbled in confusion.

_September…2008? How is that possible? I was only down there four months? Then where did this strength come from?_

Dean glanced down at the door next to his feet.

_Maybe the door's just old. Yeah. Probably rusted hinges._

Dean glanced up at the doorframe, his frown deepening. He walked over to the frame, peering closely at the hinges on it. The hinges looked practically brand new, and they were broken off. It wasn't that the hinges had been torn out of the wood; the metal where the hinges on the frame connected to the hinges on the door had been torn off, bent and twisted.

Dean had **literally **torn the door off its hinges.

"What the hell is happening to me?" said Dean, running his hand along the hinges.

Dean stepped away from the door and walked to the back of the store, finding a sink on the wall in front of a mirror. He glanced at his reflection, staring closely at his eyes. He clenched his eyes shut, straining as hard as he could. He snapped them open again, but didn't see any soulless black; just his usual vibrant green. He wasn't really sure how to make his eyes change to black, but demons seemed to be able to do it easily enough. Surely, if he was a demon, that would come easily to him.

_Well, that's something, I guess._

Dean put his jacket on the side of the sink, turning the water on and splashing it on his face a few times. He turned the faucet off and used his jacket to dry his face off. He looked up at his reflection, looking down at his chest. He grabbed the bottom of his shirt and pulled it up, seeing that his chest was completely whole. It didn't look like the hellhounds had even touched him.

_Not even a scar…_ Dean thought as he dropped his shirt back down.

He shifted a little in front of the mirror and winced as his shirt rubbed against his left shoulder. There was a stinging burn there that had been bugging him since he crawled out of that grave. He turned his left side towards the mirror as he grasped the sleeve and pulled it up, gasping as he found a handprint burned into his shoulder.

Dean's eyes widened.

_The blinding figure drew closer to him, reaching a hand out for him. The hand latched onto his left shoulder fimly, dragging him upwards as everything grew lighter and less oppressive._

Dean stared at the handprint on his shoulder uncertainly, wondering just what the hell had pulled him out. Because that's the only explanation left to Dean now. He obviously wasn't a full-fledged demon. He could still feel his humanity keeping him from zapping to the nearest town and going on a killing spree. Not to mention the eye thing—that had to be one of the first things a demon figured out how to do. So, if he wasn't a real demon, then he couldn't have gotten **himself** out. Something** had** to have pulled him out.

Deciding to give his brain a rest from trying to figure it out, Dean headed to the counter and grabbed a plastic bag, making his way through the aisles and filling the bag with candy bars, snacks and water bottles. He opened one of the candy bars as he went, taking a bite out of it.

_Sorry for looting your place, buddy, but I haven't eaten in four months._

As Dean stuffed a few more snacks into the bag, he reached a magazine stand, smiling as he spotted a Busty Asian Beauties. He grabbed it and flipped through it before stuffing it inside his bag. He walked over to the counter, setting his bag down. His eyes flew over all the buttons on the register before spotting a big green one near the bottom on the right. He hit the button, and the register dinged as it popped open. Dean snapped his fingers in satisfaction as he pulled it the rest of the way open and began grabbing bills.

Suddenly, Dean froze as he felt some sixth sense begin to nudge at him.

_Something's off… _Dean thought as he looked up at the store, searching it for anything unusual. He couldn't explain it, but he just felt like…something was coming…

The television behind the counter flicked on, static and white noise emitting from it. Dean glanced over at it, slowly reaching over and shutting it off.

_That can't be a coincidence…_

The radio on the other side of the counter flicked on, playing some easy listening music while picking up some static.

Dean glanced up at the store, hunter's mask sliding familiarly into place. He darted out from behind the counter, stuffing the register cash into his jeans pocket as the television flicked back on to static and white noise. He grabbed a container of salt from the shelf and headed to a window, pouring salt onto the sill. He used his hand to keep the salt on the sill.

_Well, that's a good sign,_ Dean thought as his hand made contact with the salt with no burn.

Something began humming all around him. It seemed to come from everywhere; there didn't seem to be any source for the noise. The hum grew in pitch and volume, and Dean put his hand to his ear, still trying to pour the salt. His hunter's instinct was telling him to hole up, protect the place from whatever is gonna come in. But another instinct was screaming at him to _RUN!_

Dean abandoned the salt and darted for the front door as the window he'd been working on shattered, blowing inwards. He covered his ears as he grabbed the doorknob, flinging the door open. As the high-pitched hum grew unbearable, Dean threw himself out of the door as he heard a loud shatter. Dean landed on the pavement of the station, his arms still over his ears as he rolled to a stop.

As the high-pitched hum vanished, Dean went with his momentum, getting his feet under him and pulling himself to a squatting position, his hands in front of him to fight back. He stared in shock at the gas station, whose windows had all blown out. He waited expectantly, braced for the fight. After a few moments and nothing attacking, Dean straightened himself little by little as he made his way back to the station, looking in at the store filled with glass all over the floor.

"What the hell…" muttered Dean.

Every bit of glass in the place had imploded; even the light bulbs on the ceiling had shattered. Dean looked down at his hands, seeing that there was blood on them.

He brought his hands back up to his ears, wiping his fingers on them and bringing them away to find blood there. He grabbed the edge of his jacket and brought it up to his ears, wiping the blood away from them.

Dean carefully made his way back into the store, not wanting to slip and fall on the numerous glass shards. He grabbed the plastic bag from the counter, shaking the glass from it and heading back out to the pavement. He glanced around the station, spotting a telephone booth at the corner of it. Dean headed back inside, leaning over the counter and grabbing a handful of quarters. He headed back outside and set the bag on the ground outside the phone booth, stepping inside of it.

Dean grabbed the receiver and cradled it between his ear and shoulder, slipping a quarter into the money slot.

_Sammy…_ Dean thought as he dialed his number.

He waited a moment before the phone beeped at him.

"_We're sorry. You have reached a number that has been disconnected."_

_Dammit!_ Dean thought as he hung up, grabbing another quarter and putting it in the slot. He picked up the receiver again.

_Bobby, then._

He dialed the number and waited a moment. The phone rang once before someone picked up.

"Yeah?" asked a gruff voice.

"Bobby?" asked Dean, relief flooding through him that he had picked up. It meant he was still alive. Dean didn't want to think about what that meant for Sam.

"Yeah?" said Bobby again.

"It's me," said Dean.

"Who's me?"

"Dean!" he said impatiently. _How do you not recognize your surrogate son's voice?_

The dial tone sounded, and Dean looked at the receiver in shock.

_He hung up on me?_

Dean sighed, putting in another quarter and dialing the number again. He decided to cut Bobby some slack. After all, he thought Dean was still dead. Dean would probably react the same way.

"Who is this?" Bobby asked angrily when he answered.

"Bobby, listen to me—" began Dean, not really sure what he was gonna tell Bobby.

"This ain't funny," growled Bobby. "Call again, I'll kill ya."

And with that, he promptly hung up again. Dean irritatingly put the receiver back on the phone, turning as he thought about what he was gonna do next. He spotted a beat-up white car in the lot and shrugged.

_Well, Bobby doesn't wanna talk, I'll just take the party to him._

As Dean headed over to the old classic, he sent a silent prayer out.

_Please don't let him kill me…_


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

**My muse finally came back! This was going to have more in it, but then this section turned out to be pretty long itself, so I'll have the next chapter soon!**

Dean climbed out of the third car he'd stolen since the gas station in Pontiac, Illinois, ten hours ago. When each car had run out of gas, he'd been forced to steal another since he didn't have any credit cards or anything on him.

Dean made his way up the porch stairs, heading to the door and knocking on it. He waited for a moment before the door was pulled open, revealing Bobby with a wide-eyed, slack-jawed look of shock on his face.

Dean smiled cautiously at him. "Surprise."

"I…I don't…" stuttered Bobby, easing slightly backwards.

"Yeah, me neither," muttered Dean, stepping into the house. "But here I am."

As Dean stepped towards him, Bobby suddenly pulled a knife out and lunged at him. Dean's instincts kicked in, and he ducked out of the way of the knife, shoving the arm up and around behind Bobby's back.

"Bobby!" Dean yelled at him.

Dean held back, not wanting his newfound strength to emerge. If he let that slip, Bobby would have believe he was himself. And it was probably Dean's restraint that allowed Bobby to break his grip, elbowing him in the face.

Dean stumbled back a little into the kitchen. "Bobby, it's me!"

"My ass!" growled Bobby, advancing on Dean.

Trying to find a way to keep Bobby at bay without fighting him, Dean grabbed a kitchen chair and shoved it in between the two of them. "Whoa, whoa, whoa, wait! Your name is Robert Steven Singer. You became a hunter after your wife got possessed. You're bout the closest thing I have to a father."

The tension eased out of Bobby as he stared at Dean.

"Bobby, it's me," Dean pleaded.

Bobby lowered the knife, slowly stepping forward and pushing the chair aside. He placed a hand on Dean's shoulder as Dean watched him warily. Bobby suddenly plunged the knife towards Dean, who allowed some of his strength to come out long enough to twist Bobby's arm behind his back and grab for the knife, holding him in place.

"I am not a shapeshifter!" Dean yelled.

"Then you're a revenant!" Bobby yelled back, struggling to break free.

Dean released Bobby and shoved him a little. Bobby stumbled forward and turned back to face him as Dean raised the knife.

"Alright," said Dean. "If I was either, could I do this with a silver knife?" He pushed up his sleeve and rolled his eyes slightly before slicing a shallow cut into his skin. He looked up at Bobby to wait for his reaction.

Bobby stared at him in disbelief and shock. "Dean?"

Dean sighed in relief. "That's what I've been trying to tell ya."

Bobby lunged forward suddenly, wrapping Dean in a tight hug. Dean hugged him back before pulling away.

"It's…it's good to see you, boy," said Bobby.

"Yeah, you, too," said Dean.

"But…how did you bust out?" asked Bobby.

_Dean suddenly felt himself surging backwards, the creature with a hold on him dragging him upwards. Dean yelled as he tried to fight the figure, but the creature was too strong for him. As the creature gripped onto him, he felt everything getting lighter and less oppressive, as though he were waking up from a deep sleep._

Dean shook his head a little to dispel the memories. "I don't know. I just, uh…" he turned and put the knife down on the kitchen table, "I just woke up in a pine box—"

Dean turned back to Bobby to get a face full of holy water. He stood there for a moment, trying to look annoyed, but was actually really happy Bobby had done that. The holy water hadn't hurt at all; he was definitely _not _a demon.

Dean turned his head and spat the water out of his mouth, looking back at Bobby. "I'm not a demon either, you know." He felt a small thrill at getting to say that out loud.

"Sorry," said Bobby, holding up the bottle of holy water. "Can't be too careful." He set the holy water on the table and headed to the kitchen counter. "So, you just…woke up?"

Dean shrugged. "Yeah."

Bobby handed him a dish towel as he headed into the living room. "But…that don't make a lick of sense."

Dean laid the towel on his shoulder, wiping his face off on it. "Yeah, you're preaching to the choir."

Bobby stopped at the desk in his living room. "Dean, your chest was ribbons, your insides were slop, and you've been buried _four months_. Even if you could slip out of hell and back into your meat suit—"

"I know," Dean muttered. "I should look like a 'Thriller' video reject."

That was one thing he still did not get: how he had healed. If he wasn't a demon, he definitely didn't heal himself. He didn't understand why he didn't even have the **scars** from the hellhounds.

"What do you remember?" asked Bobby.

Dean hesitated a moment before deciding what story to run with. When he finally got to Sam, he didn't want the kid to feel burdened with the hell Dean was stuck with the rest of his life.

"Not much," shrugged Dean. "I remember I was a hellhound's chew toy, and then…lights out. Then I come to six feet under. That was it."

Bobby leaned against the desk, thinking.

Dean glanced nervously at Bobby, not wanting to ask his next question for fear of the answer. "Sam's number's not working. He's, uh…he's not…"

"Oh, he's alive," Bobby assured him. "As far as I know."

Dean felt all the worried tension rush out of him at the word "alive." He smiled. "Good." He frowned as bobby's words got through his mind. "Wait, what do you mean, as far as you know?"

"I haven't talked to him for months."

"You're kidding. You just let him go off by himself?"

"He was dead set on it."

Dean turned more to face him, his concern for Sam working its way out through anger. "Bobby, you should've been looking after him."

Bobby stood and faced him to defend himself. "I tried. These last months haven't been exactly easy, you know—for him _or _me. We had to bury you."

"Why did you bury me, anyway?"

"I wanted you salted and burned—usual drill—but Sam wouldn't have it."

"Well, I'm glad he won that one," mumbled Dean.

_Although, he could've buried me a little closer to the surface, _he thought as he glanced down at his bloody knuckles and fingernails.

"He said you'd need a body when he got you back home somehow," said Bobby. "That's about all he said."

Dean frowned. "What do you mean?"

"He was quiet, real quiet. And then he just took off, wouldn't return my calls. I tried to find him, but he didn't want to be found."

Dean rolled his eyes, putting all the pieces together. He hadn't wanted Bobby to find him either when Sam had died, because he knew Bobby would stop him from saving his brother. "Oh, dammit, Sam…"

"What?"

"Oh, he got me home okay. But whatever he did, it is bad mojo."

"What makes you so sure?"

"You should have seen the gravesite. It was like a nuke went off. And then there was this…this force, this presence, I don't know. But it-it blew past me at a fill-up joint. And then this."

Dean took his left arm out of his jacket, letting it hang from his other arm. He rolled up the short sleeve, revealing the handprint burned into his shoulder.

Bobby frowned as he stood and headed towards him, staring at the burnt skin. "What in the hell?"

"It was like a demon just yanked me out," said Dean. "Or rode me out."

_Or maybe it was something else,_ he thought as he flashed back to that blinding figure.

"But why?" asked Bobby.

"To hold up their end of the bargain."

"You think Sam made a deal."

Dean stared at him. "It's what I would have done."

Bobby shook his head as Dean put his shirt back in place and slipped his jacket on. "This is nuts."

"Nuts?" mumbled Dean. "Nuts is normal. This is psychotic."

Bobby smiled at him. "What else is new, right?"

Dean glanced up at him, sighing. "Actually, this."

Bobby watched as Dean walked over to the fireplace and grabbed the fire poker from its holder.

Dean turned back to him, raising the crowbar in front of him. "Promise you won't start flinging the holy water again?"

Bobby frowned as he nodded. Dean put a hand on each end of the crowbar, glancing one last time at Bobby before unleashing every ounce of strength he had. Bobby's eyes widened and his jaw dropped as Dean managed to bend the crowbar into a U, straining with the effort. Dean held the bent crowbar up, waiting for the salt gun in his face.

Nothing happened except Bobby stepping towards him and grabbing the crowbar from him, examining it. He tried as hard as he could, but he couldn't make the metal budge. Satisfied that it wasn't some practical joke on Dean's part, Bobby looked up at him.

"How in the hell did you just do that?" he asked.

"You tell me," said Dean almost desperately. "I first noticed it at that gas station. I thought I'd turned into a demon, but then I saw the date, that it had only been four months. And then there was no reaction to salt, no black eyes. And then the holy water…Bobby, what's going on?"

"Hell if I know," said Bobby, starting to head for several stacks of books. "I can probably find something here—"

Recognizing a research zen worthy of Sam starting to brew, Dean put his hand on Bobby's arm. "How 'bout later? I wanna find Sam."

Bobby nodded, turning back to him. "Yeah, yeah, of course. Go get cleaned up. There's some extra clothes upstairs."

Dean nodded and turned towards the stairs, feeling relief that he was gonna get out of these dirt encrusted clothes that his corpse had been wearing four months.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

After Dean had gotten finished with a shower and dressed, he and Bobby had used the GPS on Sam's phone and discovered he was back in Pontiac. They had gotten in Bobby's car and headed back in that direction.

"Alright, hang a left up ahead," Dean told Bobby from the passenger seat with a laptop, monitoring Sam's location on the phone's GPS website. "Just about three or four buildings down: The Astoria."

Bobby turned left before coming to the hotel's parking lot, pulling in. Dean put the laptop away as Bobby parked, getting out. As Dean climbed out of the car, his eyes fell on his '67 Chevy Impala across the lot.

Dean's face broke into a smile. "Oh, baby, you survived. Thank God."

Bobby frowned at him. "Survived? Survived what?"

"Sam's reign of terror," said Dean as he headed up the steps towards the hotel with him.

Bobby chuckled as they opened the front door and headed towards the counter.

"Hey," Dean greeted the person standing there. "My brother called from here but forgot to give me a room number. He's about yay high—" he held his hand up just above his own head, "answers to the name of Sam."

The clerk frowned. "I got a lot of customers. Gonna have to be more specific."

Dean dug in his pocket and pulled out his wallet—which he'd found still in his jeans pocket, empty except a couple photos and his driver's license, fishing a photo of Sam out and showing it to him.

The clerk shrugged. "He looks familiar. Try Room 207."

"Thanks," said Dean, stowing the photo and wallet back in his pocket.

Dean and Bobby headed towards stairs and up to the second floor, approaching Room 207 at the end of the hall. Dean raised his hand and knocked on the door. They waited a moment before the door opened, revealing a brunette woman in a tank top and women's briefs. Dean frowned in confusion as he felt a twinge in the back of his mind. Something was off with her.

The woman looked from Dean to Bobby. "So, where is it?"

Dean frowned at Bobby before looking back at the woman. "Where's what?"

"The pizza that takes two guys to deliver," she said expectantly.

"I think we got the wrong room," said Dean.

"Hey, is it—" came a voice from the bathroom doorway as Sam walked into the room.

Sam froze in shock as he spotted Dean. He glanced at Bobby before looking back at Dean.

Dean stared at Sam, feeling a rush of comfort and relief at seeing his brother alive and well. _Oh, I missed you, Sammy. It's felt like a lifetime._

Dean smiled at him. "Heya, Sammy." He stepped into the room as the woman moved out of the way. He should have seen it coming, but he was so happy to see Sam that he wasn't paying attention.

Sam pulled a knife out of his pocket and charged at Dean, glaring at him as the woman screamed. The second Dean saw Sam slipping that knife out, something in Dean flipped on and took over. As Sam raised the knife over his head, Dean instantly shot his left hand up, catching Sam's arm at the wrist. He then brought his right arm up, shoving his hand into the elbow of Sam's knife arm. He took his left hand—which still had a hold on Sam's wrist—and turned his arm a little, shoving it down and away from his torso. His right arm came up, fist clenched and aimed straight at Sam's face.

It had happened so fast; Dean's reflexes had kicked in instantly. It was almost as though he had defended himself before he even knew there was a threat. By the time his brain caught up to his muscles, his fist stopped not one inch from Sam's face as Dean froze in shock.

Dean's stunned pause allowed Sam to shove him up against the wall, knife to his throat. Bobby grabbed hold of Sam and dragged him away from Dean. Dean leaned against the wall in shock, staring at the floor.

_How the hell did I just do that?_ Dean wondered.

"Who are you?" Sam yelled as he struggled against Bobby.

Dean looked up at him, frowning. "Like you didn't do this?"

"Do what?" Sam yelled.

"It's him!" Bobby told him. "It's him! I've been through this already! It's really him!"

Sam's struggles lessened as he stared at his brother. "What…"

Dean stepped forward a little. "I know." He smirked. "I look fantastic, huh?"

As tears began to fill his eyes, Sam lunged forward, grabbing Dean in a tight embrace. Dean hugged him back tightly. It was all over: the pain, the torture, the grief. The brothers were together again. In that moment, it was as though the last four months had never happened.

They broke apart, smiling at each other.

"So, are you two, like…together?" asked the woman at the doorway.

Dean glanced over at her, frowning. He'd completely forgotten she was there. Her words grated at him. _What, two guys can't hug without being gay?_

Sam frowned at her. "What? No! No. He's my brother."

"Uh…got it, I…I guess," she said. "Look, I should probably go."

"Yeah, yeah, that's probably a good idea," said Sam. "Sorry."

The woman headed to the bathroom to get dressed as Sam grabbed a shirt from his duffel, throwing it on and buttoning it up.

"So, what happened?" asked Sam. "How'd you get out?"

Dean narrowed his eyes at him. "No clue. Just woke up in my coffin."

"Anything…different?" asked Sam. "'Cause that was some…pretty quick reflexes."

Dean glanced at Bobby with a chuckle. "You haven't seen anything yet."

The bathroom door opened, and the woman walked out, fully dressed. She grabbed her bag and began heading for the door.

"Well, I better head out," she said.

As she passed Dean, something snapped in him, and he spun around, shoving an elbow in her face. She dropped her bag as Dean punched her again and again.

"Dean!" Sam yelled as he and Bobby charged forward and pulled Dean off of her. "What the hell?"

"Let go of me!" Dean told them as he struggled. "She's evil!"

The woman stared in horror at him, but Dean watched something inscrutable flit across her face.

"What?" said Sam, his grip on Dean's arm tightening suddenly.

"How do you know?" asked Bobby.

Dean glanced over at him, frowning a little. "I don't know…" He looked back over at the woman. "But she is!"

"Well, you think we should test her first before you pummel her to death?" said Bobby.

"No, I already tested her," said Sam quickly. "She's fine."

"What is wrong with you people?" the girl yelled, eyes wide in fear. "Freaks!"

Dean frowned at her. "Oh, yeah?" He used a little of his strength to throw Sam and Bobby off of him before grabbing a flask from the coffee table. "Then explain this!" He flung the flask towards the girl.

When the holy water hit her, she screamed as smoke curled off of her.

"See?" said Dean, looking at Sam and Bobby. "Demon!" He froze at the look on Sam's face.

Sam didn't seem the least bit surprised.

"Sam?" Dean asked, frowning.

Sam glanced up at him, and the look on his face said it all.

"Oh, you gotta be kidding me," Dean muttered. "Ruby?" He looked over at her. "Ruby?"

She smiled, wiping the last of the holy water from her face. "Good to see you again, Dean."

"How did you know?" asked Bobby.

Dean glanced over at him, shaking his head after a moment. "I don't know. Add it to the list."

"List?" said Sam with a frown. "What list?"

Dean glanced over at him, looking between him and Bobby. "Long story."

Sam looked over at Ruby. "Ruby, can you give us a minute?"

Ruby stared at Dean for a moment. "Sure." She glanced at Sam real quick before heading out of the room.

Dean turned to Sam suddenly. "You've been working with Ruby? What the hell, Sam?" He froze, coming to a possible conclusion. "Have you been using your psychic stuff?"

Sam sighed, looking Dean in the eye after a moment. "Yes."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Dammit, Sam…"

"Look, Dean, let me—" began Sam.

"No, Sam," said Dean, waving his hand. "One lie at a time here."

Sam frowned. "What do you mean?"

Dean looked over at him. "How much did it cost?"

Sam's frown only deepened. "What?"

"To bring me back," said Dean. "What'd it cost? Was it just your soul, or was it something worse?"

"You think I made a deal?" asked Sam.

"That's exactly what we think," said Bobby.

"Well, I didn't," said Sam.

Dean glared at him. "Don't lie to me."

"I'm not lying," Sam told him.

"So, what?" said Dean, stepping towards his brother. "Now, I'm off the hook, and you're on, is that it? You're some demon's bitch boy? I didn't want to be saved like this."

Sam turned fully towards him. "Look, Dean, I wish I had done it, alright?"

Dean grabbed Sam's shirt. "There's no other way that this could have gone down. Now, tell the truth!"

Sam shoved Dean's hands away. "I tried everything, that's the truth. I tried opening the devil's gate. Hell, I tried to bargain, Dean, but no demon would deal, alright? You were rotting in hell for months—for _months_—and I couldn't stop it. So, I'm sorry. It wasn't me, alright?" He took a deep, steadying breath. "Dean, I'm sorry."

Dean stared at him, calming down. "It's okay, Sammy. You don't have to apologize. I believe you."

"Don't get me wrong," said Bobby. "I'm gladdened that Sam's soul remains intact, but it does raise a sticky question."

"If he didn't pull me out, then what did?" said Dean.

"Good question," muttered Sam. "If it wasn't a demon deal, then what would have that kind of power?"

"Maybe an upper-level demon," suggested Bobby, sitting on the couch. "One as strong as Lillith."

"But why?" said Sam. "Why would a demon want to save Dean?"

The uncertainty and lack of knowledge was starting to really unnerve Dean. How many things out there could do this? Pull him from hell and then give him some kind of powers? Or maybe the powers had nothing to do with what pulled him out? There were too many questions with no answers, and Dean wanted answers _now_.

"It just doesn't make any sense," muttered Dean as he paced.

"Exactly," said Bobby.

"I mean, it's gotta be something uber-bad," Dean rambled on, off in his own world. "I've never seen anything like it. And I've never seen demons scared like that, especially when they're in their element."

"Their element?" said Bobby.

Dean closed his eyes in frustration as he stopped in his tracks, unable to believe he'd just let that slip.

"You mean hell?" said Bobby. "I thought you said you couldn't remember."

Dean opened his eyes and gave Bobby a look. "Of course I said I didn't remember. Can you blame me?"

"You remember hell?" said Sam in a quiet voice.

Dean looked over to see Sam staring at him with the worst guilt face he'd ever seen. He rolled his eyes. "You see, this is exactly why I lied to you, Bobby." He looked at Sam. "You don't need this kind of guilt."

"Well, tough, it's already there," said Sam.

"Hey, it's okay," Dean told him. "I'm not saying it was fun. I'm just saying…I'm out. It's all over. Okay?"

Sam nodded, but didn't look very relieved.

"Now…" began Bobby, "tell us everything you know."

Dean sighed. "Well…I broke into a gas station to get some money, water, try to find a phone that worked. I tried to break the window to get in, and the entire door flew off of its hinges! And when I woke up in that pine box, the way I got out…"

Bobby frowned. "What, crawling out? That's not so strange."

"Maybe if you were prying the boards apart instead of punching a hole straight through it," Dean told them.

Bobby and Sam's eyes widened at that.

"Well…" said Sam thoughtfully.

Dean looked at him. "What?"

"Well, you are the only person we know of to have been pulled outta hell without staying there for years," Sam suggested. "Maybe…"

"Maybe what?" asked Dean. "I came back a demon? I've been down that road, Sam. No black eyes, no salt or holy water reaction; I'm sure I've walked through one or two devil's traps at Bobby's—"

"No, no, it's—" began Sam. "Maybe while you were down there, you had started to change, but then you were pulled out before anything could really happen, so you came back…enhanced, or whatever."

Dean raised his eyebrows at Sam. "Enhanced? So, you're saying because I spent four months in hell, that I suddenly turned into Superman? Come on!"

Sam raised his hands in defense. "Hey, I'm just trying to find a theory here."

"Well, try one with a little less Comic-Con," Dean shot at him.

Sam sighed. "Well, what **do** you remember?"

Dean rubbed a hand across his forehead. "Not much…and what I do…I **really** don't wanna think about."

Sam winced in guilt once again.

Dean rolled his eyes a little. _Dammit, he's gonna blame himself every time hell's brought up, isn't he?_

"Well, did anything happen down there that could explain why you're…" said Bobby.

Dean frowned in thought. "There was this thing."

"What thing?" asked Bobby.

"No, a **thing**, like a creature," Dean clarified. "It started…All the demons, they just started…reacting. I mean, it was almost as though…" He paused as he thought about it.

"What?" Sam prompted.

"Scared…" Dean muttered. "They were scared. This thing—they could feel this thing coming, and…whatever it was, they sure didn't wanna be there when it got there. I saw this…thing coming at me. I mean, I couldn't really make out much. It was just this…giant, bright white figure. I mean, it was…blinding, almost. Next thing I know, it grabbed hold of me—" he absently brought his hand across his chest and up to the shoulder where the handprint was burned into his skin, "and started pulling me somewhere. I'm guessing that's whatever badass thing pulled me out, but when I…" he shrugged, not able to think of a better word for it, "surfaced, I felt this…this presence. I mean, not like a something-was-there presence, but like something was inside of me, like something was changing."

Sam and Bobby exchanged looks at that.

"It didn't feel like I was becoming a demon," Dean quickly clarified. "Not that I would really know what that feels like, but…it was like something was making itself home or something, I don't know." He caught their skeptical looks and rolled his eyes. "I know how that sounds. When I crawled out of my grave, there was just this strength inside of me, like I was more than what I used to be. But not like I had turned into anything. I mean, I still feel human, but…" he shrugged as he shook his head. "I can't explain it."

"Guess that's number one on our research to-do list," shrugged Bobby.

"Well, number two," said Dean. He looked at Sam. "What were you doing around here if you weren't digging me out of my grave?"

"Well, once I figured out I couldn't save you, I started hunting down Lillith, trying to get some payback," said Sam.

"With Ruby?" asked Dean.

Sam shrugged. "Eventually."

Dean rolled his eyes.

"Look, Dean, say whatever you want about her, but she saved me," Sam told him. "I was in a pretty bad place there for a while. If it wasn't for her…I'd be dead right now."

Dean stared at him for a moment until he looked away uncomfortably. _So, Sammy trusts her now. That's just great._

"Anyways, uh, we were checking these demons out of Tennessee, and out of nowhere, they took a hard left, booked up here," said Sam.

"When?" asked Dean.

"Yesterday morning," Sam told him.

"When I busted out," frowned Dean.

"You think these demons are here 'cause of you?" asked Bobby.

"But why?" asked Sam.

"Well, I don't know—some badass demon drags me out and now this?" said Dean. "It's gotta be connected somehow."

"How you feeling, anyway?" asked Bobby.

Dean shrugged. "I'm a little hungry."

"No, I mean, do you feel like yourself?" said Bobby. "Anything strange or different?"

"Or demonic?" said Dean in annoyance. "Bobby, how many times do I have to prove I'm me?"

"Yeah, well, listen," said Bobby. "No demon's letting you loose out of the goodness of their hearts. They've gotta have something nasty planned."

"Well, I feel fine," Dean told him. "Apart from the super strength and Spiderman reflexes, that is."

"Okay, look, we don't know what they're planning, or what's going on with you," said Sam. "We got a pile of questions and no shovel. We need help."

"I know a psychic," said Bobby. "A few hours from here. Something this big, maybe she's heard the other side talking."

"Hell, yeah, it's worth a shot," said Dean.

Bobby headed towards the door. "I'll be right back." He left the room.

"Hey, uh…you probably want this back," said Sam, pulling Dean's amulet out from under his shirt and taking it off. He held it out as Dean took it.

Dean held the amulet in his hand fondly. "Thanks."

"Yeah, don't mention it," said Sam.

Dean lifted the necklace and pulled it on over his head, smiling a little as it settled familiarly against his chest.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

**Sorry this took so long. Vacation and then sick and then family visiting. Hopefully, I'll get to write this faster from now on. Entering slow winter months at work.**

**Anyway, this story looks like it's moving slow, but it seems a wrong way to go to simply jump forward a few weeks/months to bring Buffy in. We need to see Dean and Sam and Bobby dealing with this when it first happens.**

Dean followed Bobby down the steps to the parking lot, Sam bringing up the rear.

"She's about four hours down the interstate," said Bobby. "Try to keep up." He headed to his car.

Dean's gaze left Bobby and fell upon the Impala, his eyes widening as his jaw dropped a little.

"I assume you'll want to drive," said Sam, tossing the keys to Dean.

Dean's hand came up unerringly, and he caught the keys without even looking, his gaze glued to the sleek black body of his baby. After everything he had seen the past forty years in that hellish nightmare, nothing had ever looked so good as the muscle car sitting in front of him at that moment. A smile stretched its way across his face.

Dean chuckled. "Oh, I almost forgot!" He walked over to the driver's door of the Impala, running his hand along the roof. "Hey, sweetheart, you miss me?" He opened the driver's door and climbed into the seat, closing the door behind him.

He had no idea how soothing the leather seat of a car could actually be. It was like an old friend welcoming him home. His gaze swept over the familiar dash of the car he hadn't realized he had missed this much. His sweep of the interior brought his attention to the radio, where a malicious parasite seemed to be growing out of the radio.

Dean glared over at Sam as he climbed in next to Dean, closing his door. "What the hell is that?"

"That's an iPod jack," Sam told him with a slight smile and a shrug.

_The bastard doesn't even have the decency to look ashamed at defacing my baby, _Dean thought annoyingly.

"You were supposed to take care of her, not douche her up," Dean growled at him.

"Dean, I thought it was my car," Sam dismissed.

_I never actually __**gave**__ it to you,_ Dean thought with a sneer in Sam's direction. _It became yours by default._

Dean turned to the ignition, turning the key as the car started. Instantly, some stupid soft rock crap began playing from the iPod in the jack.

"_You're the only one for me…"_

Dean glared over at Sam. "Really?"

Sam shrugged innocently, like his choice of music **wasn't** an affront to everything that was holy.

Dean reached towards the stereo in frustration, grabbing the iPod and ripping it out of the jack. In his annoyance with Sam and his defiling of the car, the iPod cracked in several places in Dean's grip.

"Dean!" exclaimed Sam in indignation, tearing it out of his grasp and checking it.

Dean had froze, staring in shock at his hand and then in dread over at his brother. Despite how much he ragged on Sam's music and his preference for electronic trinkets over cassettes, Dean knew better than to get between Sam and his electronics, just as Sam knew not to mess with the Impala.

Sam finished examining the iPod and sighing in defeat, glaring over at Dean.

Dean smiled uneasily. "Okay…In my defense, I don't know my own strength."

Sam's jaw clenched as he tossed the broken iPod into the backseat, narrowing his eyes at Dean.

Dean looked back out the windshield, shifting into reverse. _Dammit, I'm totally buying him a new one, aren't I?_

Dean pulled out of the parking lot, following Bobby's car towards the interstate. There was companionable silence for a few minutes.

"So…" said Dean finally.

Sam glanced over at him.

"You, uh…" muttered Dean, shifting uneasily in his seat. "You're using your…abilities, or whatever."

Sam hesitated for a moment. "Yeah…"

Dean left it there for the moment before giving in to what he was sure was gonna turn into a chick-flick moment. "How?"

Sam frowned. "What do you mean, how?"

"Like, how does it work?" asked Dean.

"You're seriously asking me what I can do?" Sam asked him.

Dean shrugged. "Looks like."

Sam shifted in his seat. "Well…I can pull demons out of their hosts and send them back to hell."

"With your mind?" asked Dean. "No exorcisms, nothing?"

"Yeah," said Sam.

"And Ruby taught you that, huh?"

Sam sighed exasperatedly. "Look, I know you don't like her."

"Understatement," muttered Dean.

Sam sighed again, looking out his window.

Dean glanced over at Sam, narrowing his eyes at him. "Why do you trust her so much?"

"I told you," said Sam, still looking out the window.

"No, you fed me some line about her supposedly saving you," Dean shot back at him. "How am I supposed to just accept that?"

Sam didn't answer.

"I'm not trying to pick a fight here, man," Dean told him. "I mean, I really want to understand. But I need to know more. I mean, I deserve to know more."

Sam finally glanced over at him, staring for a moment before letting out a deep breath.

"A couple weeks after you, uh…" began Sam, "Ruby finally caught up to me."

*************************************************SPN********************************************************************

"So, then, you guys tracked these demons up here to see if they had anything on Lillith?" asked Dean.

Sam nodded. "We were gonna head out today and scout the town."

Dean shook his head. "So, the good guys are working with a demon now. Guy goes to hell, and the world turns upside down."

There was uncertain silence for a moment before Sam spoke up again.

"Speaking of…" he began, "what was it like?"

Dean frowned over at him. "What, hell?"

"Yeah," said Sam quietly.

Dean looked back out the windshield at the sun starting to break over the horizon, trying to avoid Sam's eyes.

"_What was hell like?"_

As if that was just an ordinary, everyday question. As if he were merely asking what the weather was like.

_What was hell like…_

_The demon raised his hand again, the bloody lash swinging up into the air before being brought down again on Dean's raw, flayed skin._

_Dean cried out in agony, his voice hoarse from screaming too much._

_The demon smiled wickedly, flinging the lash up and down again. The pieces of metal and bone at the ends of the lash caught Dean across the face, effectively ripping the tears that had begun to fall right off his skin._

Dean cleared his throat, narrowing his eyes at the car in front of them. "Looks like we made it. Good, my back could use a stretch."

He could feel Sam's sad stare as he resolutely refused to look at him. After a moment, the stare left, leaving Dean feeling surprisingly alone. But he absolutely refused to put more guilt on Sam than he already had.

Yes, Dean could concede that by bringing Sam back and condemning himself to hell, he had put the worst kind of guilt in the world upon his little brother. He hadn't wanted to admit it at the time, so relieved to have his brother back and so thankful that he wouldn't have to live with the isolation for the rest of his life. He hadn't really taken into account until the last few weeks before the deal came due what he had really done to Sam.

If Dean hadn't come back from hell, Sam would have had to live the rest of his life knowing that his brother was in hell because of him. Sam would live every day feeling that if he wasn't alive, his brother would be. And Dean knew Sam; the kid was gonna blame himself no matter how much Dean told him otherwise. So, if less guilt meant not talking to Sam, then so be it.

Dean parked the car behind Bobby's in front of a house, climbing out with Sam.

"So, your psychic friend?" asked Dean.

"Yeah," said Bobby. He glanced over and caught Dean's skeptical look. "She's not some poser. She's actually pretty good at what she does. Surprises even me sometimes." He led them up to the porch and knocked on the door.

A brunette woman in jeans and a tank top answered the door with a smile and a laugh. "Bobby!" She grabbed him into a hug, lifting him briefly from the ground.

"You're a sight for sore eyes," said Bobby.

Pamela stepped back and looked Sam and Dean up and down. "So, these the boys?"

"Sam, Dean," said Bobby. "This is Pamela Barnes, best damn psychic in the state."

Dean smiled at her. "Hey."

"Hi," said Sam.

Pamela's eyes shifted over to Dean, and she frowned slightly, looking into his eyes.

Dean glanced nervously at Bobby and then back at Pamela. Her stare was making him uncomfortable.

Pamela shook herself a little, her frown disappearing. "Dean Winchester. Out of the fire and back in the frying pan, huh? Makes you a rare individual."

"If you say so," shrugged Dean.

"Come on in," said Pamela, ushering them into her house and then shutting the door behind them.

"So, you hear anything?" asked Bobby.

"Well, I Ouija'd my way through a dozen spirits," said Pamela. "No one seems to know who broke your boy out, or why. But I can tell you one thing." She looked over at Dean. "Something sure happened to him."

Dean frowned. "Why do you say that?"

"In all my life, I've never seen anyone…or any_thing_ like you," said Pamela. She stepped closer to him. "There's power in you."

"Power?" asked Dean. "What do you mean?"

"I don't know," Pamela told him. "Just power…an old power."

"So, what's next?" asked Bobby.

"A séance, I think," said Pamela. "See if we can see who did the deed."

"You're not gonna…summon the damn thing here," said Bobby.

"No," said Pamela. "I just want to get a sneak peek at it. Like a crystal ball without the crystal."

"I'm game," said Dean.

Pamela turned and headed into a living room as they followed her. She opened a chest by the wall and took out a black cloth with a symbol on it, spreading it over the table. She walked over to a cabinet and squatted in front of it to grab some items. Dean glanced over to see a tattoo on her lower back that read: Jesse Forever.

Dean nudged Sam with his elbow and gestured to her. "Who's Jesse?"

Pamela laughed and looked back at him. "Well, it wasn't forever."

"His loss," said Dean.

Pamela stood with several candles in hand and walked over to Dean. "Might be your gain." She walked over to the table, setting the candles down.

Dean turned towards Sam, lowering his voice. "Dude, I am so in."

"Yeah, she's gonna eat you alive," Sam muttered.

"Hey, I just got out of jail," shrugged Dean. "Bring it."

Pamela stopped at their shoulders, looking at Sam. "You're invited, too, grumpy." She walked away again.

Dean shoved his finger in Sam's face. "You are **not** invited."

Pamela headed back to the table with the last of her ingredients. "Alright, boys. Have a seat."

Dean, Sam and Bobby joined Pamela at the table, sitting down as Pamela lit the candles. Once the candles and everything was in place, Pamela took a seat between Bobby and Dean.

"Right," said Pamela. "Take each other's hands."

Sam joined hands with Bobby and Dean as Pamela turned to Dean.

"And I need to touch something our mystery monster touched," said Pamela.

Dean jumped as he felt a hand on his upper thigh. "Whoa!" He felt the hand retreat. "Well, he didn't touch me there."

Pamela laughed. "My mistake."

Dean glanced at the others before releasing Sam's hand and taking his jacket off of his left shoulder, rolling the sleeve of his shirt up. He could sense Sam's stare as Pamela reached for the burn on his shoulder.

"Okay," said Pamela.

They all closed their eyes and joined hands again.

"I invoke, conjure and command you," chanted Pamela. "Appear unto me before this circle. I invoke, conjure and command you; appear unto me before this circle."

Dean opened his eyes and frowned at her. _That's it? __**I**__ could do that._

He closed his eyes again as Pamela continued to chant. Before long, the table began to shake, and Dean opened his eyes to watch. That sixth sense was back, screaming at him to run again.

"I invoke, conjure and command you, appear unto me before this circle," said Pamela.

Out of the corner of his eye, Dean saw the television click on. He glanced over at it, watching as the screen filled with static. The high-pitched hum he had heard at the gas station started up again.

"I invoke, conjure and command—" chanted Pamela. "Castiel?"

Dean's gaze shot over towards her.

"No," said Pamela. "Sorry, Castiel. I don't scare easy."

"Castiel?" asked Dean.

"Its name," Pamela told him. "It's whispering to me, warning me to turn back."

The table continued to shake as the hum grew in volume.

"I conjure and command you, show me your face," chanted Pamela.

As Pamela continued to repeat the phrase, the table began to rattle more violently. Sam and Bobby both opened their eyes, staring at the table in worry. Dean's instincts were yelling at him, and it became very hard to stay seated there as the danger so obviously grew.

"Maybe we should stop," Bobby told her as the hum grew in pitch.

"I almost got it," Pamela shot at him. "I command you, show me your face! Show me your face now!"

Suddenly, the fire flared from the candles several feet into the air. A scream split the air, and Dean's head shot over to Pamela, watching as her eyes flew open and fire burst from them. Dean's jaw dropped as Pamela did also; the fire and hum instantly died down.

Bobby caught Pamela and lowered her to the floor. "Call 911!"

Sam scrambled out of his chair and darted into the next room for a phone. Dean crouched over Pamela next to Bobby, looking in concern at the blood and burnt flesh around her eyes. Pamela's eyes opened, and Dean stared in horror at the empty, burned sockets staring back at him.

"I can't see!" Pamela sobbed. "I can't see! Oh, God!"

Dean stared at the remnants of what this creature had done to Pamela for a moment before glancing up at Bobby.

_If this thing burns out a person's eyes just for looking at them, why would it pull me out of hell?_ Dean wondered.

The only logical explanation for why something this evil would bother with him at all was that it definitely had something nasty planned for him…and it didn't look like there was any way to stop it.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

Dean sat at a table in a diner, waiting for Sam to come back. They had just left Pamela's house, where an ambulance had loaded her up and left for the hospital. The medical guys had been baffled.

"Be up in a jiff," said the waitress after Dean gave her his order.

As she turned and left, Dean watched her leave, narrowing his eyes in confusion. There was just something off about her; he couldn't figure it out. He watched the waitress head over to the counter and talk to the cook in the back.

"Dean!"

Dean looked over to see that Sam had returned and was sitting across from him with a worried expression.

"You okay?" Sam asked.

Dean glanced over at the waitress before looking back at Sam. "Yeah…I'm good."

"Well, Bobby said Pam's stable," said Sam, holding up his cell phone. "And out of the I.C.U."

"And blind, because of us," muttered Dean.

"And we still have no clue who we're dealing with," said Sam.

"That's not entirely true," Dean told him.

"No?"

"We got a name: Castiel, or whatever. With the right mumbo-jumbo, we could summon him, bring him right to us."

"You're crazy. Absolutely not."

"We'll work him over. I mean, after what he did?"

Sam frowned at Dean. "Pam took a peek at him, and her eyes burned out of her skull, and you want to have a face to face?"

"You got a better idea?"

"Yeah, as a matter of fact, I do. I followed some demons to town, right?"

Dean frowned. "Okay."

"So, we go find them," said Sam. "Someone's gotta know something about something."

The waitress walked back over, and Dean looked up at her, feeling a twinge in the back of his mind. He was getting that vibe from her again, but he couldn't place it.

The waitress set two plates of pie in front of them, and Sam thanked her. As the waitress locked eyes with Dean, he suddenly placed the odd feeling he was getting. He lunged forward and slugged her across the jaw.

"Dean!" Sam hissed at him.

Dean got to his feet and said simply, "Demon." He swung another punch at the girl, knocking her to the floor.

The waitress looked up at him with black eyes, and Sam stood from his seat, glaring down at the woman.

"Should I?" asked Sam.

Dean frowned over at him. "Really?"

"Well…yeah…" muttered Sam.

"I think you have to worry about us right now," said the waitress.

People grabbed Dean and Sam from behind, the possessed cook and a possessed customer. Dean almost started fighting back before he hesitated, deciding to go with Sam's plan of finding out what the demons know. The waitress stood and walked over to the front door, locking it.

She turned back around, her eyes going back to normal. "Dean…to hell and back. Aren't you a lucky duck."

Dean smirked at her. "That's me."

"So, you get to just stroll out of the pit, huh?" said the demon. "Tell me. What makes you so special?"

"I like to think it's because of my perky nipples," Dean smiled.

She glared at him.

"I don't know," Dean told her, building up his strength. "Wasn't my doing. I don't know who pulled me out."

"Right," said the demon. "You don't."

"No, I don't," said Dean.

"Lying's a sin, you know," said the demon.

"I'm not lying," Dean told her. "But I'd like to find out, so if you wouldn't mind enlightening me, _Flo_."

The demon glared at him. "Mind your tone with me, boy. I'll drag you back to hell myself."

"Is that so?" Dean shot at her.

Dean brought his head back, nailing the demon who had hold of him in the head. The demon shouted and let him go. Dean spun around and nailed the demon in the face and gut a few times as Sam struggled with his demon. When the demon was on the floor, Dean turned and punched the demon holding Sam. The demon let Sam go, and Sam pulled out Ruby's knife, tossing it to Dean. Dean grabbed the knife out of the air as he turned, stabbing the demon on the floor.

Sam raised his hand out towards the waitress and held her in place. Dean plucked the knife out of the demon's chest and spun, throwing the knife at the other demon as he went for Sam. The demon flickered as he collapsed to the floor, dead. Dean walked over and grabbed the knife from the demon, turning towards the waitress, who quivered in Sam's psychic hold.

"Well, look at you, Lara Croft," the waitress smirked at him.

"Shut up," Dean growled at her. He glanced over at Sam, who grimaced in concentration. "Nice moves, Sammy." He looked back at the waitress. "Even if you could right now, you wouldn't drag me to hell. Because if you were you would have done it already. Fact is, you don't know who cut me loose. And you're just as spooked as we are. And you're looking for answers." He stepped menacingly towards her. "Well, maybe it was some turbo-charged spirit. Or, uh, Godzilla. Or some big bad boss demon. I'm guessing at your pay grade that they don't tell you squat. Because whoever it was…they _want_ me out. And they're a lot stronger than you."

"I will kill you myself," growled the demon.

"Oh, yeah?" said Dean. He stepped back and looked at his brother. "Hit it, Sammy."

Sam stretched his hand out further, and the demon convulsed, coughing up black smoke. The black smoke pooled on the floor as she coughed it up and then collapsed. The black smoke burned through the floor as Sam lowered his hand into a fist. Dean hurried to the girl and felt the pulse point on her neck for a moment.

"Dammit…" Dean muttered, looking back at Sam with a shake of his head.

They headed out of the diner, looking back at it.

"Holy crap, that was close," muttered Dean.

"What now?" asked Sam.

"I say we look into that Castiel guy," Dean told him as they headed towards the Impala.

"Dean—" Sam began.

"We went with your plan," said Dean. "The demons didn't know anything. Now, we summon Castiel."

Sam sighed. "And nothing I say is gonna change your mind?"

"Not a bit." Dean climbed behind the wheel of the Impala.

Sam shook his head in part irritation-part fondness as he climbed in also.

*******************************************SPN***********************************************************************

Dean sat on the fold-out couch with a large book open in his lap. Sam sat on the bed across from him, going through a book of his own.

Sam got to the end and closed the book with a thud. "Nothing in here. How you doing?"

"Jack with a side of squat, that's how I'm doing," Dean muttered, closing his book also.

"Well, has Bobby got anything?" asked Sam, running a hand tiredly across his face.

"No, he would've called," Dean told him.

"Well…we could…head out for a burger," suggested Sam, glancing down at his watch. His eyebrows rose as he realized just how late it actually was. "Or maybe drinks instead."

"Nah, I'm beat," Dean told him. "You can head out if you want." He dug in his pocket for his keys, raising his hand to toss them to Sam, but then froze as a feeling sparked in his mind.

Sam stared at him, glancing from the keys still in his raised fist to his confused face. "Dean?"

Dean frowned. "Sam…something's wrong."

Sam frowned, leaning forward a little. "What do you mean?"

"I don't know," said Dean. "I just feel…" His eyes widened suddenly. "Something's coming."

Having learned to trust Dean's freaky instincts in the last day or so, Sam grabbed a salt gun from the duffel on the floor by the bed, loading it with some shells next to it in the bag. Dean was grabbing a salt gun propped up against the fold-out bed he had already loaded earlier. The two of them stood at the ready, salt guns aimed around the room.

The television flickered to life, static filling the screen, and the radio flipped on, whining as it flipped through the stations.

Dean looked back and forth between the TV and the radio. "Oh, crap…"

"What?" asked Sam, staring in confusion at the TV and radio.

"It's the thing from the gas station," Dean told him. "The thing that brought me back: Castiel."

Sam's eyes widened, and he glanced down at the salt gun in his hands before setting it on the bed and withdrawing Ruby's knife from his jeans. A hum began whining throughout the room, growing in pitch and volume.

Dean glanced around at the windows and then up at the mirror in the ceiling. "Run!"

"What?" exclaimed Sam. "Why?"

"Trust me, run!" yelled Dean as the whine grew louder. He charged for the door, covering his ear as he did, and wrenched it open.

Dean burst through the door as Sam followed, the windows and mirror shattering and spraying glass all over the room. Bobby came out of the stairwell to see them running from the room.

"Go, go, go!" Dean told him, darting into the stairwell.

"Wait!" called Sam from where Bobby stood at the doorway.

Dean looked up at him, noticing the absence of the mysterious noise. The three of them exchanged looks before heading back down the hallway and into the room. Glass was littered all over the floor, but just like at the gas station, no one and nothing had appeared there.

"Let's go," Dean told them, grabbing their things and stuffing it in the duffel bags. "That thing knows we're here. We gotta vamoose."

"And go where?" asked Sam as he began packing hurriedly also. "It's obviously tracking you. How are we gonna run from it?"

"We're not," said Dean matter-of-factly. "We're summoning it." He glanced up to see Bobby and Sam both looking at him like he was crazy. "Pack while you talk, people!" He went back to grabbing his things.

"You're insane," Sam told him as he went back to his packing.

"It's time we faced it head-on," shrugged Dean, zipping up the bag.

"You can't be serious!" said Bobby.

"As a heart attack," said Dean, turning towards the door as Sam zipped his bag up, too. "It's high noon, baby."

"Well, don't know what it is," said Sam as he followed Dean and Bobby out the door. "It could be a demon, it could be anything."

"That's why we've gotta be ready for anything," said Dean as he led the way down the stairwell. "We've got the big-time magic knife, two arsenals in the trunk, super psychic boy here…"

"This is a bad idea," said Bobby.

"Yeah, I couldn't agree more, but what other choice do we have?" asked Dean.

"We could choose life," said Bobby.

"Bobby, whatever this is, whatever it wants, it's after me," Dean reasoned as they reached the door at the bottom. "That much we know, right?" He held the door open for the other two, and they made their way towards the parking lot. "I've got no place to hide. I can either get caught with my pants down…or we can make our stand."

Sam nodded as they reached the Impala and Chevelle. "Fine, but I still think you're crazy."

Dean shrugged as he opened the trunk and tossed his duffel in with Sam's. "We'll see."


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

Bobby drew a symbol with white spray paint on the cement floor of an empty, abandoned barn they had found on the side of a country road. He had just finished covering the floor, walls and ceiling with symbols on every inch he could get to.

Dean stood at a table, setting up weapons and supplies. "That's a hell of an art project you've got going there."

"Traps and talismans from every faith on the globe," said Bobby. "How you two doing?"

Sam gestured to the table full of weapons. "Stakes, iron, silver, salt, knife. We're pretty much set to catch and kill anything we've ever heard of."

Bobby sighed. "This is still a bad idea."

"Yeah, Bobby, I heard you the first ten times," said Dean. "What do you say we ring the dinner bell?"

Bobby nodded reluctantly and walked over to the other table, taking a pinch of powder from a bowl and sprinkling it into a larger bowl. The bowl emitted smoke as Bobby started chanting the ritual. When he finished, sparks joined the smoke, flying up from the bowl. As the smoke and sparks died, Sam, Dean and Bobby turned, ready for whatever was about to appear.

Dean sat on the table full of weapons, twiddling Ruby's knife in his hands. Sam leaned on the table next to him, the salt gun limp in his hand. Bobby sat on the table across from them, staring around the barn in boredom. They had been waiting for the thing they had summoned for a half hour now, and so far…nothing.

"You sure you did the ritual right?" Dean muttered at Bobby.

Bobby glared at him.

"Sorry," said Dean. He glanced over at Sam. "Touchy, touch, huh?"

Sam smiled a little at that before bangs began echoing around the large barn. They all looked up at the roof to see the panels rattling against the support beams. They jumped away from the tables, growing tense as they shouldered salt guns.

"Wishful thinking, but maybe it's just the wind," said Dean.

But he knew it wasn't. Not two seconds after the ceiling had started rattling, he had gotten that sixth sense again; something was coming.

The door at the far end of the barn creaked open, splintering the crossbeam they had put across it. A man in a suit and trench coat stood outside the door, calmly walking towards them. The light bulbs hanging above them began shattering in a shower of sparks as the man approached. He seemed to stroll through the sparks and falling glass as though they were not there.

Once most of the sparks had fallen, the three hunters raised their shotguns, opening fire. The salt rounds hit the man in the chest, shredding holes in his shirt, but not phasing him whatsoever. They exchanged glances before moving to surround the man, who Dean now assumed was Castiel, and they put down their shotguns.

Dean grabbed Ruby's knife from the table, holding it behind his back. "Who are you?"

"I'm the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition," said the man in a deep voice.

Dean frowned at the calm tone in his voice, certain with that confession that this was, indeed, Castiel. "Yeah…Thanks for that."

Faster than Sam could see, Dean lunged forward, burying the knife up to the hilt in Castiel's chest, right through his heart. As Castiel just stood there, Dean stepped back and stared down at the knife. Castiel glanced nonchalantly down at the knife, grasping it and pulling it from his chest with an unruffled look at Dean. Dean glanced over at Sam and Bobby, unnerved that the knife had no effect, just like the salt guns.

Bobby raised a crowbar and swung it at Castiel. Castiel's hand came up and caught the crowbar, turning towards Bobby and putting two fingers to his forehead. Bobby slowly collapsed to the floor, unconscious.

_Or dead…_ Dean thought in horror.

"You—" began Dean, launching himself towards Castiel.

He swung several punches at Castiel, but each and every swing was taken calmly by Castiel. Every kick and punch didn't seem to set him off in the slightest; he seemed set on only waiting out the fight. Each blow stung Dean's hand, and Dean felt as though he were punching a concrete wall. Dean raised his leg to kick Castiel, who caught his foot. Dean punched him across the face to release his foot, and then he reared his arm back, aiming straight for the center of Castiel's face. Not one inch from his face, Castiel's hand had suddenly caught Dean's face, holding tight onto his hand.

"We need to talk, Dean," said Castiel.

Dean narrowed his eyes at Castiel. "_Talk_? You wanna talk after what you did?" He gestured with a glance down at Bobby on the floor.

"Your friend's alive," Castiel told him. "He is merely asleep." He opened his hand, releasing Dean's hand and lowering his own hand.

Dean pulled his fist back, bringing it back down to his side and standing at the ready in front of Castiel.

"We need to talk, Dean," Castiel repeated. He looked towards Sam. "Alone."

"Anything you tell me, Sam is just gonna hear later anyway, so you might as well lay it on me," Dean told him.

Castiel looked back at Dean. "Very well."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Well, I'm so glad we worked that out _before_ Bobby got knocked out."

Castiel merely walked over to one of the tables as Sam backed slowly away from him. His total indifference to Dean's attitude only set Dean off more. Here Dean was being all smartass, and the guy didn't even glare at him, or—hell—even a look of shock would do. As Sam moved towards Dean and away from Castiel, Dean caught his eye and motioned towards Bobby. Sam moved over to Bobby, checking on him. When Sam nodded at him, Dean glanced back over at Castiel, glaring at him. Castiel was flipping through one of their lore books with a mildly interested look.

"Who are you?" asked Dean.

"Castiel," the man supplied.

"Yeah, I figured that much," said Dean. "I mean, what are you?"

Castiel gazed over at Dean with an intent look. "I'm an angel of the Lord."

Dean's gaze hardened as he glared at Castiel. He could feel Sam's interest from there; he knew Sam was very pro-angel. "Get the hell out of here. There's no such thing."

Castiel stepped away from the table, facing him fully. "This is your problem, Dean. You have no faith."

Lightning flashed, and great shadowy wings appeared behind Castiel's back, unfurling and stretching up towards the ceiling. Dean stared in shock as the lightning stopped.

_Dean watched the blinding figure drawing closer to him. He didn't know what the figure was, but he knew it couldn't be a man. There were great blinding…things coming out on either side of the figure's back. It was too bright to see the figure properly; Dean could barely keep his eyes open and pointed at the figure._

Dean stared at the spot where the wings had vanished, understanding now that this was indeed the figure he'd seen pull him out of hell. He glanced over at Sam, who was looking up at him in awe and renewed hope. He looked back at Castiel. "Well, some angel you are. You burned out that poor woman's eyes."

"I warned her not to spy on my true form," Castiel told him. "It can be…overwhelming to humans, and so can my real voice. But you already knew that."

"You mean the gas station and the motel…" muttered Dean. "That was you _talking_?"

Castiel nodded.

"Buddy, next time, lower the volume," said Dean.

"That was my mistake," said Castiel. "Certain people—special people—can perceive my true visage. I thought you would be one of them. I was wrong."

"And what visage are you in now, huh? What, holy tax accountant?"

Castiel looked down at his trench coat, lightly touching it. "This? This is…" he looked up at Dean, "a vessel."

Dean frowned at him. "You're possessing some poor bastard?"

"He's a devout man. He actually prayed for this."

"Well, I'm not buying what you're selling, so who are you really?"

Castiel frowned at him, appearing confused as to why Dean did not believe what he was saying. "I told you."

"Right. And why would an angel rescue me from hell?"

"Good things do happen, Dean."

"Not in my experience."

Castiel frowned even further, puzzled by Dean's flippant, pessimistic attitude. "What's the matter? You don't think you deserve to be saved?"

Dean stared at him. "Why'd you do it?"

"Because God commanded it. Because we have work for you."

Dean frowned at him. "Work? What do you mean, work?"

"All in good time," Castiel told him, turning away from him. "We will speak soon."

The next second, Castiel had vanished into thin air. Dean looked around the room, trying to see where he had gone to.

"I don't believe it…" Sam muttered in awe.

Dean looked at him. "Yeah, me neither."

Sam looked up at him in confusion.

"Come on, Sam, you can't actually believe he's an angel," Dean threw at him.

"Well, then, tell me what else it could be," said Sam.

"Look, all I know is I was not groped by an angel," said Dean.

"Okay, look, Dean. Why do you think Castiel would lie to you about it?"

"Maybe he's some kind of demon. Demons lie." Even as Dean said it, he didn't really believe it. The figure he saw in hell definitely wasn't a demon. But Dean was grasping at straws, trying to leave angels as his last choice.

"A demon who's immune to salt rounds and devil's traps and Ruby's knife? Dean, you described the thing you saw in hell yourself. What other name could you put to that than 'angel'?"

"Don't you think that if angels were real, that some hunter somewhere would have seen one…at some point, _ever_?"

"Yeah. We just did, Dean."

"I'm trying to come up with a theory here, okay? Work with me."

"Dean, we have a theory."

"Yeah, one with a little less fairy dust on it, please." Dean just did not want to admit they had really landed in an episode of _Touched by an Angel_.

"Okay, look. I'm not saying we know for sure. I'm just saying that I think we—"

"Okay, okay. That's the point. We don't know for sure, so I'm not gonna believe that this thing is a freaking angel of the Lord because it says so!"

"He didn't just say so, Dean," Sam told him. "You saw him yourself…twice."

Dean shook his head, turning away from him.

"Dean, this is good news," said Sam.

Dean turned back to him. "How?"

"Because for once, this isn't just another round of demon crap," said Sam. "I mean, maybe you were saved by one of the good guys, you know?"

"Okay. Say it's true. Say there are angels. Then, what? There's a God?"

"I'm betting, yeah."

"I don't know…"

"Okay, look. I know you're not all choirboy about this stuff, but this is becoming less and less about faith and more and more about proof."

"Proof? What proof? All I've seen is a figure made of light that pulled me out of hell and then practically shattered my eardrums—along with all the glass in the place, _twice_—before showing me something that looks like wings and telling me he's an angel."

"Well, then, Bobby will look it up, and you'll have your proof."

"Proof that there's a God out there that actually gives a crap about me personally? I'm sorry, but I'm not buying it."

Sam huffed out a frustrated sigh. "Why not?"

Dean looked over at him. "Because why me? If there is a God out there, why would he give a crap about me?"

"Dean—"

"I mean, I've saved some people, okay? I figured that made up for the stealing and the ditching chicks. But why do I deserve to get saved? I'm just a regular guy."

"Apparently, you're a regular guy that's important to the man upstairs."

"Well, that creeps me out. I mean, I don't like getting singled out at birthday parties, much less by…God."

"Okay, well, too bad, Dean, because I think he wants you to strap on your party hat," said Sam.

"What's that about a party?" said Bobby suddenly from the floor.

They both looked down at him as he opened his eyes and sat up.

"Hey, Bobby, you okay?" asked Dean.

"That depends, you gonna answer my question?" asked Bobby as he climbed to his feet with Sam.

"Uh, nothing," muttered Sam.

Bobby looked around the barn. "Where'd he go?"

"He went poof," said Dean.

Bobby glanced over at him.

"Literally," said Dean. "Disappeared into thin air."

"Well, what'd you guys find out?" asked Bobby.

"I got pulled out of hell by Michael Landon," Dean told him.

Bobby frowned a little.

"Sam'll explain," said Dean, waving his hand as he headed for the door.

As Dean walked out of the barn and began heading for the Impala, listening to Sam telling Bobby all about what Castiel had told them. Dean leaned against the fender of the Impala, waiting for Sam to finish talking to Bobby. After a few minutes, Bobby's Chevelle started up and pulled away from the barn. Sam walked up to the Impala, but instead of heading for the passenger door, he leaned up against the fender next to Dean. Dean frowned and waited for whatever was obviously on Sam's mind. After what felt like an eternity, Sam finally spoke. But what came out of his mouth was the last thing Dean ever expected to hear.

"Ruby made my powers stronger by feeding me demon blood," said Sam.

Dean's eyes widened as he whipped his head around to stare at Sam in shock. "What?"

"And we…slept together," Sam forced out.

Dean stared at him for a while. "You wanna run that by me again?"

Sam shifted uncomfortably. "Look, I know you don't approve—"

"No shit, I don't approve!" yelled Dean, pushing himself away from the car and pacing back and forth in front of Sam. He turned back to Sam. "She screwed you and got you to drink her blood? Why would you even think you needed to do that?"

Sam avoided his eyes, obviously struggling with his answer. "There's, uh…there's something I never told you…about Cold Oak. When Yellow-Eyes came to me in my dream…he showed me something."

"**Showed** you?" asked Dean.

Sam looked back up at him. "Like a memory or something…about the night Mom died." He finished in a near whisper.

"Okay…" said Dean, waiting for the blow.

"The demon didn't come to kill Mom…He came for me."

"Came for you, how?"

"He stood over my crib and…" Sam looked Dean straight in the eyes, "bled into my mouth."

Dean stared at him in shock.

"That's why we're connected to him, that's how we got out psychic abilities," Sam told him.

Dean frowned, unable to figure out why Sam was coming clean. "Why are you telling me this all of a sudden? I mean, I didn't stumble onto any of these secrets, so why the non-silent treatment?"

Sam hesitated, looking up at Dean in what looked like concern. "What was hell like?"

Dean stared at him before rolling his eyes. "You gotta be kidding me." He turned away from him and started his pacing again. "You think a little secret spilling from you is gonna make me open up?"

"Dean, angels pulled you from hell with some kind of holy mission, you have some new super hunter powers, the demons are getting more and more restless like something's coming…It's kind of a brave new world out here. There can't be anymore secrets or half-truths here, Dean."

Dean paused in his steps, hands on his hips and still not looking at Sam.

"I get this isn't easy," Sam said bracingly. "And heaven knows I would rather not hear about what happened to you down there…but I'm your brother. You don't have to shoulder this on your own. Let me help carry the load."

They stood in silence for a while, Sam waiting and Dean contemplating what his brother had offered. Dean did not want to burden Sam with what he had suffered for him in hell. On the other hand, Sam had just confessed every secret he had to Dean, wanting to come clean and start afresh.

Dean let out a deep breath. "It wasn't four months, you know."

"What?" asked Sam.

Dean slowly walked back over to the car, leaning on the fender next to him. "It was four months up here, but down there…I don't know. Time's different. It was more like forty years."

"My God…" breathed Sam.

"They, uh…they sliced and carved and tore at me in ways that you…" Dean paused, his throat threatening to close up. "Until there was nothing left. And then, suddenly…I would be whole again…like magic…just so they could start in all over. And this demon Alistair…at the end of every day…every one… he would come over, and he would make me an offer: to take me off the rack…if I put souls on…if I started the torture. And every day, I told him to stick it where the sun shines."

Dean's cocky smirk trembled as his eyes started to fill a little with tears. "For thirty years, I told him. But then I couldn't do it anymore, Sammy. I couldn't…And I got off that rack. God help me, I got right off it, and I started ripping them apart! I lost count of how many souls."

Tears began to fall from Dean's eyes.

"The things that I did to them," mumbled Dean.

There was uncomfortable silence for a moment.

"Dean…" Sam cleared his throat. "Dean, look, you held out for thirty years. That's longer than anyone would have."

Dean shook his head as the tears fell in earnest. "How I feel…this…inside me…I wish I couldn't feel anything, Sammy…I wish I couldn't feel a damn thing."

Sam stared at Dean as his brother tried to pull himself back together, finally understanding why Dean was having such a hard time with accepting an angel wanting to save him. With what he had done in hell, he couldn't understand why anything that good would do anything for him.

They sat in silence for a long time until Dean wiped the last of his tears away, got up and headed for the driver's seat. Sam climbed into the passenger seat as Dean started the car up and drove in the direction Bobby had gone. Dean knew that he had just spilled enormous guilt onto Sam, but it actually made him feel slightly better. It felt like a fresh start; something to go forward from.

Now, the only thing to focus on was Dean's little super predicament.

**Hopefully, that's the end of copying straight from the episode...**


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

**Oh, I know! I know! I'm a bad girl. Holidays and then end of the year wrap up for my accounting job (that was fun) and then moving and then trying to find a second job. Ugh! I finally started writing again!**

Four months later, and Dean's new powers still had not gone away. He seemed to be getting the hang of things, though. His strength, speed and skill were coming in real handy on their hunts. Although, it came as a real downside when Dean started beating on Sam during his hallucination caused by the ghost sickness.

In the past four months, they had beaten back the Witnesses, traveled back in time and uncovered the truth about their family and the Yellow-Eyed Demon, hunted a rugaru, taken down a psycho shapeshifter, dealt with a rogue case of ghost sickness, banished Samhain back to hell, destroyed a wishing well, helped an angel-turned-human turn back into an angel, and—oh, yeah—discovered why Castiel had raised Dean: to stop Lillith from breaking the seals and freeing Lucifer from hell.

During that time, they had been searching nonstop for an answer to what had happened to Dean. Two months after Dean had come back, they had finally found an answer in one of Bobby's many lore books.

**Two months ago…**

"Ha-ha!" Dean laughed as he skidded to a stop at the edge of the woods on Bobby's property. "Woo!"

Sam jogged into view, coming to a stop next to Dean and putting his hands on his hips. "Not fair. You got those abilities and stuff. That's cheating."

"Aw, you're just jealous that I can kick your ass blindfolded _and_ hands tied behind my back," Dean smirked at him.

Sam shoved him in the shoulder as Dean laughed.

"Boys!"

Sam and Dean glanced over to see Bobby standing on the front porch.

"You might wanna take a look at this!" Bobby called.

Dean glanced over at Sam. "Race ya." He took off running towards the house.

Sam watched his brother, whose legs were almost a blur as he ran.

_How is he not winded by now? _Sam thought as he caught his breath and followed after Dean.

Sam arrived in the living room to find Bobby sitting at his desk and Dean leaning against the entryway to the kitchen with a beer in hand.

"'Bout time, slow poke," Dean said. "Pull up a chair."

Sam fondly shook his head as he sat on the couch.

"Alright, Bobby, what do we got?" asked Dean. "Seal thirty-five?"

"No, this has nothing to do with Lillith or the apocalypse," Bobby told him. "It's about you."

"Oh, even better," muttered Dean.

Bobby pulled a large tome out of a pile of books that read "Vampyr" on the cover and opened it to a marked passage.

"Now, it doesn't mention anything about going to hell, but it's the closest thing to what happened to you that I could find," said Bobby. "Ages ago—before the first hunter picked up his silver sword—a group of men called the Guardians sought a way to fight the 'forces of darkness.' They took a young slave girl and imbued her with the power of a demon."

"They had a demon possess her?" asked Sam in surprise.

"Not possess her," Bobby clarified. "They took the essence of a demon—its strength, speed, skill—and put it in this girl. They called her the Vampire Slayer. It was her job to use the demon's strength to fight the forces of evil in this world."

"So, they basically violated this girl just so she could do their dirty work for 'em?" said Dean, huffing in annoyance. "Self-righteous dicks."

"Well, that's how the legend goes," said Bobby. "There's no evidence the Slayer was ever actually created…until now."

Dean frowned at him. "Wait, you're not seriously suggesting that I'm the Slayer."

Sam nodded. "It makes sense."

"How?" asked Dean.

"Well, people who go to hell become demons if they're there long enough, right?" speculated Sam. "So, maybe having been pulled out before you could fully turn gave you this essence of a demon thing. I mean, you are the first one to actually be pulled out of hell."

Dean shook his head. "No, no, no. That is not what this is."

"Well, then, you come up with a theory," Bobby shot at him. "Your strength, your reflexes, the way you can recognize a demon in an instant…It looks like this Slayer myth might actually be true now."

"Oh, come on!" said Dean, frowning. "Really? That's just…so gay."

Sam struggled to hold in his laughter.

"Shut up!" Dean hissed at him.

**Now…**

Dean stood at the table in the motel room, searching through his duffel. "Okay, not funny, Sam. Where'd you put it?"

"Why would I take your gun?" Sam said as he sat at the table with his laptop. "We have dozens of them."

"I don't know," grumbled Dean, digging into the last corners of his bag. "All I know is, it's not here."

"Then maybe it's in the trunk," Sam suggested.

Dean paused long enough to give him a look. "It's not in the trunk. I never leave my gun lying around."

"Well, I don't know," shrugged Sam. "All **I** know is, I don't have it."

Dean sighed as he straightened back up, hands on his hips. "Great." He glanced over at Sam's bed and spotted his duffel.

"What are you doing?" asked Sam as Dean headed for the duffel and unzipped it.

"Checking your bag," Dean told him simply.

Sam jumped to his feet, heading for the bed as Dean dug in the bag. "I told you, I **don't have it**." He grabbed for the bag just as Dean latched onto something it.

Dean pulled his ivory-gripped pistol out of the bag and held it up in front of Sam, glaring at him. "I think someone owes somebody an apology."

Sam stared at the gun, frowning. "I told you I didn't take it, and I meant it. I don't know how it got in there. Maybe **you** put it in there."

Dean lowered the gun. "Why would I put _my_ gun in _your_ bag?"

"Well, the bags look the same," said Sam. "Maybe you were tired."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Yeah, sure, Sammy, I was tired."

Sam sighed as he went back to the table and his research.

Dean glanced over at Sam. "Maybe we should mark 'em or something."

Sam looked up at him.

"You know, with a Sharpie or tags or something," Dean suggested.

Sam shrugged. "Whatever."

Dean frowned suddenly, turning towards the rest of the room.

"What?" asked Sam.

"Heads up, Cas is coming," said Dean.

They heard a flutter of wings, and Castiel appeared at the motel room door, looking between the two of them.

"You know, that just gets creepier the more you do it," Sam told Dean.

Dean shrugged with a smirk. "Hey, it's a gift."

The first few times Dean had got that feeling, he had vaguely remembered it from when Castiel had tried appearing to him just after he came back. The next moment, Castiel had suddenly appeared in the room. After a while, Dean had come to recognize that sixth sense for what it was and knew the angel was about to come to them.

"How's it hanging, Cas?" asked Dean.

Castiel frowned. "How's what hanging?"

Dean rolled his eyes. "It's an expression. It means, 'what's up'?"

Castiel frowned even further.

"Ugh, never mind," muttered Dean. "You need something?"

"I came to warn you about a seal," Castiel told him. "Lillith is trying to break it as we speak."

"Okay, what seal?" asked Dean. "Where?"

"North and Claymont," Castiel answered.

"That's here in town," said Sam.

Castiel nodded stiffly. "'New blood under a new sky brings light.'"

Dean frowned. "What does that mean?"

Castiel's head shifted to the side somewhat, listening to something. "I must go."

"No, wait, wait!" said Dean, but Castiel had already disappeared. "Son of a bitch! How are we supposed to know what we're stopping?"

"Okay, 'new sky,' that's gotta be the new moon," said Sam. "There's one tonight. Then 'brings light,' Lucifer means 'light-bringer.' That's just referring to the fact that it's a seal on Lucifer's cage. And then 'new blood…' I don't know. Maybe a murder?"

"Well, let's go find out," said Dean, grabbing his gun and jacket and heading for the door as Sam followed him.

*************************************************************Supernatural*************************************************

The Impala pulled up to the intersection of North and Claymont, and Dean parked the car. The brothers got out and pulled some salt guns and Ruby's knife out of the trunk.

"What are you grabbing a machete for?" asked Sam.

Dean shrugged, tying the machete to his side. "Better safe than sorry."

Sam closed the trunk, and they headed down the street a little, looking all around for anything related to "new blood."

"This is ridiculous," muttered Dean, his gun hand stuffed into his jacket pocket as they passed a few people. "Why can't Cas ever just **tell** us what we have to do? Freaking angels and their cryptic bullshit."

"We'll find it," Sam muttered back. "Just shut up and hunt." He looked over across the street as they made their way past an alley.

Dean froze on the sidewalk, head turning towards the alley as that sixth sense sprang into existence once again.

Sam realized Dean wasn't with him anymore and headed back to him. "What is it?"

"There's something down there," Dean mumbled.

"Some_thing_?" asked Sam.

Dean nodded, pulling his gun out. "Definitely."

The two of them made their way down the alley, canvassing the shadows for anything out of the ordinary. As they neared the end of it, they heard someone struggling and spotted a man standing over a young woman, face planted on her neck.

Dean charged forward. "Hey!"

The man looked up at them, causing them to freeze in their tracks.

"What the…" mumbled Dean.

The guy had blood running down his chin from his mouth, so Dean's first thought was vampire, but this wasn't like any vampire he had ever seen before. Instead of a second set of teeth, this guy had actual fangs. His eyes were a demonic yellow, and his forehead was all bumpy and rigid.

Taking a chance, Dean raised his gun and pulled the trigger. The bullet hit the maybe-vampire in the forehead, knocking him back against the alley wall behind him. Sam rushed towards the girl as she stumbled out of the guy's clutches.

Dean rushed towards the vampire as he regained his balance and turned to Sam and the girl. Dean punched him several times as Sam ushered the girl towards the alley entrance. Dean muscled all the power he could into his legs and jumped, aiming a kick at the vampire's head. As Dean landed effortlessly and the vampire hit the alley wall, the vampire glared at him.

"Slayer?" said the vampire. "But you're not—"

Dean grabbed him by the throat, throwing him to the alley's gravel floor. He grabbed a splintered-off two-by-four nearby and raised it above his head so he could pin the vampire to the ground and then cut his head off with the machete. For some reason, instinct took hold of Dean and aimed the board five inches higher. Dean rammed the board through the vampire's breastplate and into his heart. In the split second that Dean then began reaching for the machete, the vampire's skin turned to ash before his whole body crumbled into dust.

Dean stared at the ground where the board was jammed straight into it, not sure if he was seeing things or not. _Did that just really happen?_

Sam came to a stop next to Dean. "What happened? Where is he?"

Dean slowly looked up at Sam, a frown on his face. "I…staked him."

"Staked him?" asked Sam, looking down at the wood in the ground. "As in, a stake to the heart? I thought the only way to kill a vampire was to cut their head off."

"So did I, but you ever seen a vampire look like that before?" asked Dean.

Sam shook his head, digging in his pocket and pulling out his cell phone. "I'm calling Bobby. Maybe he'll know."

Dean pulled himself to his feet. "Well, I do know one thing."

Sam put the phone to his ear. "What?"

"That thing called me the Slayer," said Dean. "Looks like Bobby **was** right."

"Bobby Singer," he answered on the other line.

"Hey, Bobby," said Sam. "We're on a hunt, and we just ran into a vampire that…well, wasn't a normal vampire. Dean just dusted him."

"Dusted?" said Bobby. "Huh…Well, that's a new one."

"New breed of vampire?" asked Sam.

"No, an old one," said Bobby. "Vampires of popular folklore—you know, sunlight burns, stake to the heart kills, holy water, crosses—actually did exist before one mated with a human. That child started the vampires we know today. I didn't know any of the old ones still existed. I thought they'd been wiped out long ago."

"Okay, and, uh, he called Dean the Slayer," said Sam. "We're thinking your theory might be right."

"Well, _I_ could've told you that, ya idjit," said Bobby. "Shag ass back to my place. I got a new hunt for ya." He hung up.

Sam put his phone away.

"What'd Bobby say?" asked Dean.

"I'll tell you in the car," Sam told him. "Bobby wants us at his place."

*******************************************************Supernatural************************************************************

Willow Rosenberg sat staring at the crystals set on the dining room table in front of her. She just couldn't believe what she had seen with that spell. She had been afraid of something like this ever since the spell that brought her best friend Buffy Summers back had created a demon that tried to kill her. She had been hoping that had been the only consequence of the spell she, her girlfriend Tara Maclay, her best friend Xander Harris and his girlfriend Anya Jenkins had performed. Willow knew she didn't have a choice now; she had to tell the others.

She got up and headed towards the living room, where Buffy, Tara, Xander, Anya and Buffy's little sister Dawn were hanging out in the living room watching a movie. Buffy, Tara and Dawn were on the couch, and Anya and Xander were cuddled together in the lounger.

Willow stood in the doorway, wringing her hands nervously. "Um…guys?"

They all looked up at Willow.

"Hey, Will," said Buffy. "Come join the party. We have another seat…somewhere." She looked around for anything that could be used as a seat.

"Here, we'll make room," said Dawn, scooting over practically into her sister's lap.

"I need to talk to you guys," said Willow.

Buffy picked up the remote and turned off the movie.

"What'd you do that for?" asked Anya. "The annoying fat man was just about to be eaten by a dinosaur."

"Willow wants to talk to us, sweetie," Xander told her.

"Oh," said Anya, turning towards Willow with a sweet, fake smile. "Please, continue with your story."

"O-okay," said Willow, staring at her. She looked at the others. "I've been keeping an eye out for anything…out of the ordinary."

"Will, our whole lives are out of the ordinary," Xander pointed out.

"You know what I mean," said Willow. "Something out of _our_ ordinary. And…well…there's something I picked up on."

"What is it, sweetie?" asked Tara.

"Well, ever since that demon we…created tried to kill Buffy, I've been doing spells regularly to watch for anything else like it," Willow explained. "And…I've found something."

Buffy leaned forward, interested. "Not another demon—"

"No, no!" said Willow quickly. She then frowned. "Well, at least I don't think so. I mean, it can't be—"

"Willow, get to the point," said Xander.

"Right," said Willow. "There's this energy I've locked on to. I don't think it's anything like what happened with that spell, because I've traced it all the way back to the day you…you know…died."

Buffy frowned. "So, something that got loose when Glory opened the portal?"

"I don't think so," said Willow. "It didn't pop up until after the portal was closed. There's this energy that appears in Sunnydale and heads for Illinois. Then, over the last four months, it's jumped all over the place. First, it's in Illinois, then South Dakota, then back to Illinois—it's going all over the country. And then I got to thinking. If it didn't appear until the portal closed, that was when you died, Buffy."

"And?" said Dawn.

"Well, when Buffy died four years ago, the next Slayer was called even though Buffy came right back," said Willow. "It would stand to reason that another Slayer would be called if Buffy died again. I mean, she is still the Slayer."

"So, you think this energy you found is Buffy's successor?" asked Tara.

Willow nodded. "I think so. And it looks like she's on the road. You know, going wherever the call of evil takes her."

"And we're concerned about this, why?" asked Anya.

"Anya—" began Xander.

"No, really," said Anya. "I mean, it's nice that Willow discovered another Slayer in the world, but why is she telling us? I kind of figured that was gonna happen anyway."

"Well, we haven't had much luck with new Slayers," said Willow. "I mean, Kendra tried to kill Buffy because no one knew there were now two Slayers, and then Faith, well…"

They all knew what Willow meant by that; Faith had turned into a psychopath. Buffy still wasn't very comfortable with the subject, even though Faith was now doing penance in a Los Angeles prison. Faith had once switched bodies with Buffy, which nearly got Buffy put in Watcher's jail in London. To add insult to injury, Faith then screwed Buffy's boyfriend while in her body.

"So, what are you saying?" asked Buffy.

"I think we should talk to this girl," said Willow. "We should know what we're dealing with."

"Alright, road trip!" exclaimed Dawn.

"Oh, no, not you," said Buffy. "You have school."

"But Buffy—" began Dawn.

"No buts," said Buffy. "You are not missing anymore school."

Dawn pouted, crossing her arms. "I never get to do anything fun."

"Alright, I'm road food guy!" said Xander, pulling himself and Anya to their feet.

"Well, that's just it," said Willow as Buffy and Tara stood also. "We don't have to hit the road."

"Why not?" asked Tara.

Willow hesitated. "Because she's headed right for us."


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

"So, what hunt is sending us to the middle of nowhere southern California?" asked Dean as he drove the Impala west.

"A town called Sunnydale," Bobby told them from the backseat. "It has its own hellmouth."

"And just what is a hellmouth?" asked Dean.

"A thin spot between dimensions: here and hell," Bobby explained.

"What, like a devil's gate?" asked Sam from the passenger seat.

"Yes, only natural," said Bobby.

"Natural?" asked Sam. "Isn't the devil's gate natural?"

"A devil's gate isn't a natural door to hell," Bobby explained. "Some idjit fool with dreams of power or a love on for Satan, or—hell—just an idiot hoping to save the world somehow comes along and punches his way through until a hunter—like Samuel Colt—slaps a lock on it. A hellmouth is a place where the energies are strongest between worlds. They wear on the veil so much that they create holes in them."

"And we're headed to…what? Patch it up?" asked Dean.

"So to speak," said Bobby. "The hellmouth doesn't just create chaos; it attracts it. Creatures from all over flock to it like hyenas on a gazelle. I think I know a spell that will close it back up."

"Great," shrugged Dean. "Sounds like a plan."

"But it's not gonna let us do it without a fight," Bobby told them. "The minute we start, we are gonna get jumped by all manner of evil. We're gonna need help."

"You called, uh, Rufus or someone?" asked Sam.

"No," said Bobby. "Word on the hunter circuit is that there's a hunter in Sunnydale—one of the best anyone's ever seen. Name of Buffy Summers."

"She's meeting us somewhere?" asked Sam.

"None of my contacts has any numbers for her or anything," Bobby told them. "She's really off the grid. We'll just have to hit a phonebook when we get there."

"Awesome," said Dean.

****************************************************************SPN/BTVS******************************************************************

"What do you mean, she's headed right for us?" asked Buffy.

"Well, I've been tracking it for the last two hours, and it's headed in a straight line for Sunnydale," said Willow. "Now, she could stop anywhere on the way, but with our luck—"

"She's coming to kill me," muttered Buffy.

"But she can't," said Anya. "We brought her back. She can't die again."

"Anya, honey, Buffy's not gonna die," Xander told her.

"Good," said Anya.

"Do you have a timeframe?" Buffy asked Willow.

"No," said Willow. "It looks like she's still in Utah. Looks like she's driving instead of taking a plane."

"Good," said Buffy. "Looks like I got a few hours to kill. I'll be on patrol. Call me when she hits town, and I'll keep an eye out."

"You want company, Buff?" asked Xander.

"Nah, that's okay," said Buffy. "I need to stretch my legs. I'll see you guys in the morning."

"Good luck," said Dawn.

Buffy headed to the front door, slipping on her jean jacket from the peg on the wall and grabbing a set of house keys from the table. Slipping the keys into the pocket of her jeans, she stepped out the door and headed down the sidewalk through town.

It looked to be a quiet night, which was what Buffy had been hoping for. She had needed to get out of the house. She loved her friends and sister, but ever since she got back, she couldn't find it in herself to care. Her friends had meant well by bringing her back, believing they were rescuing her from hell. In reality, Buffy had been living peacefully in heaven. Buffy didn't think she could ever tell them.

Before long, Buffy had found her way into the cemetery. She made her way through the tombstones, her arms crossed in front of her.

"Looks like someone's having a hard night," came a deep, Cockney voice from behind her.

Buffy came to a stop, not turning around. "What do you want, Spike?"

"Just keeping you company," said Spike, walking towards her.

"What makes you think I need company?" asked Buffy, turning to face him.

"Well, let's see," mused Spike. "You left the house to go patrol when everything has been pretty quiet lately, you seem more like you're out for a walk than a patrol, and you just look like you could use a friend."

Buffy rolled her eyes. "And you thought you'd do me a favor?"

Spike stepped closer. "Well, I am the only one who **really** knows how you must feel right now. Figured you might want to…unload or something."

"Well, you can do one thing for me," said Buffy.

Spike nodded.

"Duck," said Buffy, charging forward.

Spike toppled to the ground as a Polgara demon hit him over the head. Buffy swung a punch as Spike climbed to his feet. The demon kicked at Buffy, who side-stepped him and drove her elbow into his back.

"Buffy!" Spike shouted.

Buffy turned to see a second Polgara jutting at her with his arm skewer. Buffy blocked his arm as Spike took on the first demon. Buffy drove her foot into the Polgara's gut, following it up with a kick to the head.

The next second, ten or so more Polgaras swarmed out of the trees, converging on the Slayer and vampire.

"Buffy, run!" Spike yelled as four demons knocked him into a tombstone, knocking him out.

Buffy kicked the legs out from under the demon she was fighting and turned to make a run for it. Many hands grabbed her, shoving her down. She watched a tombstone come at her before the world went black.

******************************************************SPN/BTVS********************************************************************

The Impala passed a sign welcoming them to Sunnydale.

"Alright, let's find a motel," said Dean. "They usually have phonebooks in the rooms. We'll find her in the morning."

They found a small motel on the edge of town and checked in. After they unpacked their bags into the two rooms, Sam noticed Dean standing at the window, staring out of it with a frown.

"What is it?" asked Sam. "You see something?"

Dean shook his head slowly. "No, I just…There's something about this town. I don't like it."

"Maybe you can feel the hellmouth," suggested Sam.

Dean stared out the window. "Maybe…" He narrowed his eyes, leaning closer to the glass. "Or maybe it's them."

Sam joined him at the window, spotting a group of creatures sneaking along the edge of the forest. Their skin looked reptilian; they were definitely not human.

"Come on," said Dean.

They grabbed their pistols, a couple of knives, and some machetes. Not knowing what these things were, they weren't taking any chances.

Dean and Sam took off across the parking lot, sneaking up on the six or so creatures. They were standing over a young brunette woman, raising what looked like a sword over her.

"Hey!" shouted Dean.

The things spun around, and Dean could see the sword wasn't a sword at all. There appeared to be a skewer coming out of the thing's arm.

"Holy…" muttered Dean.

Now that he got a good look, he could see that they really **weren't** human. They were something Dean had never seen before.

The creatures charged towards them, and Dean opened fire, slugging three of them in the gut. They dropped to the ground as Sam dropped the other three. They stared at the dead beings warily.

"Well, that was easy," muttered Dean.

The girl jumped up and ran for it.

Dean knelt next to one of them, poking at the skewer sticking out of its wrist. "What are these things?"

Sam knelt next to him. "No clue. My first thought is a wraith, but lore says they can pass as human."

"Well…good to know bullets can take 'em down," said Dean.

Sam was suddenly pulled up from next to him.

"Sam!" Dean shouted, turning to see ten more of those things swarming out from the trees.

A couple of them had grabbed Sam, hitting him over the head. Dean raised his pistol, but one knocked it out of his hand. Dean quickly began using his Slayer skills to fight them, but the truth of the matter was that he was plainly outnumbered. They gained the upper hand and flung him into a tree, knocking him unconscious.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

**First of all, I am so sorry for the almost month long delay. Work was murder for a few weeks, and then I had vacation. I figured I'd have enough time to write on vacation, but I never got around to it.**

**This note is for the rude reviewer, if she (I'm assuming she) indeed is still reading, even after telling me after several chapters that this fic sucks.**

**First off, you must be very bored to continue reading a story you hate involving a show you hate.**

**Second, you don't like my story, that's perfectly fine. You're entitled to your own opinion. Not everyone likes the same things. But I would prefer "I hate this fic" to "this fic sucks." I didn't force you to read my story.**

**Third, constructive criticism is one thing. Name-calling is something else entirely.**

**Fourth, if you hate the show Buffy the Vampire Slayer, why continue reading once you found out it involved Buffy?**

**Finally, it's called freedom of speech. I should be able to write any story I want without fear of being yelled at.**

**My response could have been more rude than it was, but I didn't want to stoop to your level. Good day to you, and enjoy my "sucky fic."**

*******************************************************SPN/BTVS***********************************************************************

Xander walked into the dining room to find Willow and Tara at the table, their eyes closed. "How's it going, girls?"

Tara opened her eyes and looked at him as Willow continued to concentrate. "The energy has arrived in Sunnydale about thirty minutes ago."

"So, we got a new Slayer in town now?" asked Xander. "Where is she? Should we call Buffy?"

Willow's eyes snapped open. "I lost her."

"You lost her?" asked Xander. "What does that mean?"

"I've been able to keep contact with this girl's essence through her conscious mind," Willow explained. "Sort of a Vulcan mind meld meets Betazoid empath. I can only lock onto her soul while she's conscious. I can't find her anymore. She must be in trouble."

"Or asleep," Xander offered with a look at his watch. "It's past midnight."

"Knowing us, which is more likely?" Willow pointed out.

Xander shrugged. "Good point."

"Do you know where?" asked Tara. "We can send Buffy to help."

"The motel at the edge of town," Willow told them. "But she's a Slayer. Chances are a demon knocked her out and took her."

The front door burst open, and Spike rushed into the room.

"Did Buffy come back?" he asked anxiously.

"What?" said Xander. "How'd you know she left?"

"I bumped into her on patrol," Spike answered quickly. "Is she back yet?"

"No," said Xander.

"Bollucks, I was afraid of that," said Spike. "We were attacked by Polgaras. When I came to, she was gone."

"Buffy's gone?" asked Dawn from the doorway.

"Don't worry, Dawn," Willow assured her. "We'll find her. Okay, you two go look for her with Spike. I'm gonna stay here and keep an eye on the spell. I have a feeling the girl's sudden disappearance from the waking world has something to do with Buffy's disappearance. Once she's awake, I can call you and send you in her direction. Buffy might be with her."

"Okay," said Tara, moving towards the front door with Xander.

Xander looked into the living room at Anya. "An, watch Dawn for a while."

"Sure thing, honey," said Anya, flipping through a magazine on the couch.

"But I wanna help Buffy," began Dawn.

"Dawn, Buffy would want you to stay here," Willow told her.

"But—" began Dawn.

"Dawn, please don't argue," said Willow. "You know how Buffy would react if something happened to you." She closed her eyes once again to concentrate.

Dawn sighed, but nodded. "Fine, but call me if **anything** happens."

"Got it," said Xander, heading for the door with Tara and Spike.

********************************************************SPN/BTVS****************************************************************

Buffy felt like she was swimming in a pool of darkness—thick, gooey darkness. She couldn't seem to open her eyes yet, but she sure could hear. Hitching breaths seemed to be coming from close by, as though someone was straining hard with something. There was a clatter as something metallic fell onto something hard and solid; it sounded like concrete.

A deep groan came from behind her. "Son of a bitch."

Something rough and warm touched her hands and began moving, and Buffy realized it was someone's hands—the someone who was behind her.

As Buffy pushed through the haze to the surface, she tried to bring her hands to the floor she was lying on to push herself up, but she found that she couldn't move them. Her hands were bound behind her back. As she moved her hands, they brushed against the others, which immediately froze.

"Hey," came the male voice again. "Hey, you awake?"

Buffy moaned as her eyes finally came open.

"Hey," he said. "Say something."

"I'm awake," Buffy told him.

"Oh, you're a chick," he said.

Buffy turned her head as much as she could towards him. "Excuse me?"

"No offense," he muttered. "I'm Dean."

"Buffy," she told him.

The man named Dean paused. "Not…Buffy Summers, is it?"

Buffy frowned, getting on edge. "How do you know my name?"

"I came to town looking for you," Dean told her.

"Why?" she asked.

"For your help," Dean replied, his hands bumping hers as they searched for something. "Some hunter pals of mine need you to help us throw a band-aid on the hellmouth."

Buffy frowned. "Hunters?"

A door in front of Buffy opened, and she looked up to see six Polgaras walking into the room, closing the door behind them. As they surrounded the two of them, Buffy felt Dean scoot up so their backs were touching. Buffy could tell he was scared and trying to get away from these terrifying, unknown creatures. The next second, she felt his hands fumbling around her butt. Buffy was about to yell at him when she felt something small and metallic brush by her hands: a lock pick. He'd been looking for the lock pick he'd dropped earlier, scooting close to her to hide his escape attempts from the demons.

"You know, I have taken down some fugly sons of bitches in my time, but you guys take the cake," Dean said.

Buffy had to hand it to him; he was taking the whole demon thing in stride. She supposed he was trying to appear tough. After all, he was apparently a hunter. Buffy had never really hung out with someone who went hunting, but she figured they were kinda butch. He also knew about the hellmouth, though, which Buffy was gonna have to ask him about after she got them out of this mess.

"Silence, weakling," said one of the demons.

Buffy's eyebrows rose in surprise. "Wow, you guys actually talk? That's new."

"Don't worry, Buffy," Dean told her. "I'll get us out of this."

"You are not going anywhere," said the demon in front of Buffy. "We finally have you."

"Oh, so, you have heard of me," Dean told them. "I'm flattered."

Buffy knew they were talking to her. They thought they'd grabbed the Slayer. Fortunately, they always underestimate her. The question was, why did Dean think they wanted him? All the while, Buffy could feel Dean working away at his cuffs.

"But why don't we just drop the vendettas and go our separate ways?" Dean suggested. "Or, at least let the girl go. You have me. You don't need her."

_My God, he likes the sound of his own voice more than __**I**__ do, _Buffy thought.

"The girl cannot go," said another demon. "She's a part of this."

"Oh, come on, you don't need her," Dean told them. "I mean, look at her. She's skin and bones. Not to mention short. She's nothing."

Buffy suddenly realized what he was up to now. _Oh, you idiot!_

Dean was keeping the demons distracted and off guard so he could attack once he got free and catch them by surprise. The moron didn't understand that he'd be dead before he got two punches in. Well, if he was gonna do something stupid, Buffy might as well join in to save his sorry ass.

"Excuse me?" Buffy muttered at him. "I work out!"

"Yeah, but you really think you stand a chance?" Dean directed at her, sounding grateful that she'd caught on. "I mean, look at these guys. They're trolls on acid."

"Oh, and **you** can take them on?" Buffy shot back, playing along but also a little miffed about his comments.

"At least I'm not a girl," he answered.

"Oh, so, that's what this is about," Buffy said. "You're a chauvinist pig."

"Hey, it's just facts," Dean replied. "I'm at least a foot taller than you, and I've been trained to fight. I don't think a little cheerleader is gonna do much good."

_Good call on the cheerleader, _Buffy consented as she felt his cuffs give and his hands move out of them. _Okay, any second now._

Buffy braced herself for the moment as she continued the diversion. "You know, you'd be surprised what a cheerleader can do."

"Oh, yeah?" said Dean.

_This is it,_ Buffy thought as she felt the muscles in Dean's arms tense. She tensed her own muscles as she thought of an attack plan quickly.

"I'd like to see a cheerleader do this," said Dean.

As she felt Dean pull away from her, Buffy turned over onto her back to kick up off the floor and into a standing position, which was a little harder to do with her cuffed hands pinned underneath her. She managed to land on her feet and instantly kicked the two nearest demons away. She then jumped up as high as she could, bending her torso to lower her arms around her tucked legs. She brought her hands up in front of her as her feet connected with the floor again. Three of the demons rushed towards her, and she kicked at them and swung her cuffed hands at another, knocking them into the wall. Buffy spun around to go aid Dean, but froze at what she found.

Dean was holding his own against three of them. Not just holding his own; he looked like he was winning. The skills, speed and technique he was using were something she'd only seen in herself and Faith.

"Huh?" Buffy mumbled.

That frozen hesitation cost her. Arms came over her head and around her throat. Buffy reached up, grabbing hold of the arm and bringing her head back. As her skull cracked against his, the arms let her go, and Buffy turned to fight again.

****************************************************SPN/BTVS********************************************************************

Dean grasped hold of one demon's head—one hand on the back of it and one on the chin—and twisted, breaking its neck. He turned to the other two, putting a hand on the side of each head and bringing them together in a horrible smack. The two demons staggered back and gave Dean enough time to reach into his jacket and search for his gun, which was gone.

_They may have taken my gun, but I bet they didn't find my knife, _Dean thought.

As a demon charged at him, Dean swung his fist at its gut. As the demon doubled over, Dean brought an elbow down on its neck, knocking it to the floor. He brought a leg up as the other demon rushed to him, kicking it in the stomach. He reached down with his free hand down to his boot, grasping hold of the blade under his sock. He stabbed it into the demon's heart and spun around, blocking a punch from the other one. He plunged the knife into its heart, already turning to square off against the last three and wondering why they hadn't yet attacked him. The answer came when he turned towards what he thought was gonna be three demons laying into a helpless Buffy on the floor.

Buffy was wailing on the demons, keeping up a good fight even with her hands cuffed, which she'd somehow gotten from behind her back. She'd already taken down one by what looked like cracking its head open against the wall. She had just knocked one's feet out from under it, jamming her foot down on its neck and snapping it. The last one pushed her up against the wall from behind.

Dean stepped forward, ready to lend a hand, when Buffy kicked him away from her. She grasped the bars of the door window with her cuffed hands and hefted her legs up, pinning them around its neck. Buffy struggled for a moment before flinging the demon around to the floor, landing expertly on her feet. She landed a kick to its head so hard that its head snapped to the side, breaking the neck.

Buffy turned quickly to the rest of the room, her body still tense and ready for a fight. Dean could spot a hunter when he saw one, and that's what he was staring at right now.

"Whoa…" Dean mumbled.

"Whoa, yourself," Buffy muttered back, staring at the demons he'd killed. "How do you know how to fight like that? In fact, how can you take on three of them at once?"

"Well, it's a, uh…long story on the three at once thing," Dean told her. "As for how'd I learn to fight, I learned how you did."

Buffy frowned. "What?"

A growl came from down the hall outside, and Dean instantly snapped to attention, falling into a ready fighting stance. He saw Buffy do the same next to him. Dean passed her his lock pick, and she made quick work of the cuffs; Dean was impressed.

"Put this conversation on hold for now?" asked Dean.

"You betcha," Buffy told him as they darted for the door.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven

Sam and Bobby got back to the motel room, having not been able to find Dean where he and Sam had been attacked. Bobby headed straight for the laptop as Sam pulled out his cell phone. Bobby brought the GPS website up as Sam dialed.

"Well, at least his phone's on," Sam said after no one answered. "You should be able to locate him."

Bobby typed on the keyboard as he watched Sam pace nervously. "Sam, he'll be fine. He can take care of himself…and half the town now."

Sam chuckled a little as Bobby waited for the website to load. Sam leaned over Bobby's chair, watching the screen in anticipation. Sam's phone rang, and he flipped it open as he watched the website.

"Yeah?" said Sam. He stood up straight, his eyes wide. "Dean?"

*************************************************BTVS/SPN***********************************************************

Buffy and Dean rushed out of the building, finding themselves in the middle of downtown.

"Come on, my house is this way," Buffy told him.

"Fine, but we gotta hurry," Dean replied. "Even though we kicked ass back there, there's gonna be—"

"—more where they came from," Buffy finished. "There always is." She shot him an inquisitive look as they moved quickly past the cinema. "The question is how you know that."

"What do you mean, how do I know that?" said Dean. "I know that the same way you do."

"Okay, what does that mean—" began Buffy.

"Buffy!"

Buffy and Dean looked up to see Xander, Spike and Tara running towards them.

"Yeah, it's okay, Willow," Xander said into his cell phone. "She's right here."

"How'd you find me?" asked Buffy.

"Spike said you guys were attacked, so Willow tracked you down," Tara explained.

Xander was listening intently to the other line on his cell phone.

"So, where's the girl?" asked Willow.

"What do you mean?" asked Xander.

"The girl," said Willow. "The other Slayer is there with you guys right now."

"No, Will, there's no girl here," Xander told her. "Just Buffy and some guy."

"Some guy has a name, you know," Dean spoke up. He exchanged a confused look with Buffy as Xander ignored him.

"Well, I can clearly sense two essences there, and I know one is Buffy, so the other has to be that Slayer," Willow told him.

"Wait, you mean that essence thingy is here right now _besides_ Buffy?" asked Xander. He looked up at Dean. "We better head back to your house, Buffy."

"What's the address?" asked Dean, pulling out his phone.

"1630 Revello Drive," Buffy told him as the five of them headed the way Xander and the others had come.

Dean dialed his phone and listened to it ring.

"Yeah?" Sam answered shortly.

"Sam, it's me," Dean told him.

"Dean?"

******************************************BTVS/SPN******************************************************************

"Hey," said Sam as Dean let him and Bobby into the Summers house. "You okay?"

"Yeah, me and Buffy made it out okay," Dean told him, leading them into the living room to introduce everyone. "This is Buffy Summers, her sister Dawn, Spike, Willow Rosenberg, Willow's girlfriend Tara Maclay, Xander Harris, and Xander's girlfriend Anya Jenkins. Guys, this is my brother Sam and our friend Bobby Singer."

"Nice to meet you," greeted Sam.

"Now, if we could clear the air about what the hell happened tonight…" said Bobby.

"Yeah, we'd like an explanation, too," said Buffy. She looked at Dean. "Who are you?"

Dean narrowed his eyes at her. "You first."

They just stared expectantly at him.

Dean rolled his eyes. "My name is Dean Winchester. I'm a hunter."

They all frowned at him in confusion.

Dean frowned right back. He didn't understand why they were confused. They were obviously all hunters; they knew all about it. "A hunter." He looked at Buffy. "Like you."

"I'm not a hunter," Buffy told him. "I'm the Slayer."

Dean exchanged shocked looks with Bobby and Sam before looking back at Buffy. "Wait a minute, you're a Slayer, too?"

Buffy's eyes widened. "You know what a Slayer is?"

"**Know** what a Slayer is?" said Dean. "I **am** a Slayer."

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Nice try. Come up with a better cover."

"It's the truth," Dean told her. "I'm a Slayer."

"Slayers can only be girls," Buffy pointed out.

Dean frowned. "But the legend goes that one person is given the strength—"

"—and skill to fight the vampires, demons and forces of darkness, yada, yada, yada," Buffy recited in a bored tone. "I know the drill. And it's not one person; it's one **girl**. A girl with the—"

"—power of a demon, I know," Dean finished.

Buffy and the others frowned a little at that as Dean continued.

"That's where the first Slayer came from," Dean finished. "At least, that's how the legend went until it actually happened to me."

"That's impossible," said Buffy. "It's **always** a girl. One girl in every generation. When she dies, the next one's called. You **can't** be a Slayer."

"Well, Buff, there was that energy surge that happened the day you died, starting in Sunnydale and popping over to Illinois," Willow piped up. "Maybe it has something—"

"Wait, wait, Illinois?" Dean interrupted. "Pontiac, Illinois?"

Willow thought for a moment and shrugged back.

"Where I came back…" Dean mused.

"Came back?" asked Buffy.

"Uh, yeah, see…I kind of died…and four months later, an angel pulled me out of hell," Dean explained. "When I came back, there was this…presence, this strength I felt. All of a sudden, I was stronger, faster, a better fighter—"

"When did this happen?" asked Willow.

"About four months ago," Dean answered.

Buffy exchanged a serious look with Willow. "The day I died."

Dean's eyebrows rose in surprise. "Wait, you died, too?"

Buffy nodded slowly. Dean was about to ask her about it when Willow turned to him.

"You said you were pulled out of hell by an angel that day?" Willow asked. "September 18, right?"

Dean nodded.

"That explains it, Buffy," Willow began ranting. "He was being pulled out of hell by a powerful supernatural entity at the same time you were being killed by that portal to a hell dimension. With all those combining factors, it could have confused the Slayer essence. With Dean being pulled from hell—by an angel, no less—that might have attracted the Slayer essence to him, and—voila!—a guy Slayer. Or maybe it was some kind of exchange of power when you passed him on your way into hell."

"Whoa, whoa," Dean said in shock. "You were in hell?"

Buffy glanced uneasily at her friends before nodding. "Yeah…I was in hell."

"So, what, an angel pulled you out, too?" asked Sam.

"No, actually, you have us to thank for that," Xander joined in, sounding proud.

Bobby looked dubiously at them. "You guys raised Buffy from the dead?"

"Well, it was mostly Willow's spell," Anya said. "We just kinda helped."

"Spell?" asked Dean edgily. "Willow's a witch?"

Willow nodded. "Tara's a witch, too."

"Oh, I'm not even in the same league as you, Will," said Tara affectionately.

Dean narrowed his eyes into a glare, which was directed at the two girls. "A witch?"

Willow frowned at him. "Yeah. Although, I'm not too sure about that stink eye you're giving me."

"Oh, sorry," Dean apologized in mock concern. "It's just that every witch I've ever met has been _evil_!"

"Well, we're not, so get over it," Willow told him.

"Okay, can we get back on topic here?" said Buffy suddenly, not liking the look Dean and his friends were giving the two witches. She looked at Willow. "Will, you're saying you believe him about the whole Slayer thing?"

Willow shrugged. "Maybe."

"Well, if he's a Slayer, where's his Watcher?" Buffy pointed out.

Dean frowned over at Bobby, who gave him a shrug, and he looked back at the others. "Watcher? Is that some new term for stalker?"

"A Watcher is someone who trains the Slayer," Buffy explained. "Each Slayer has one. So, where's yours?"

The doorbell rang, and everyone looked in the direction of the door for a moment before Buffy went and answered it.

"Hello, Ms. Summers," came a British voice. "I'm with the Watchers' Council."

"Well, you have good timing, I'll give you that," said Buffy.

"The Council likes to keep an eye on things here in Sunnydale, and we have reason to believe a new Slayer has entered the picture," said the British man.

"Wow, nothing gets by you," Buffy muttered.

Dean exchanged a look with Sam. Clearly, Buffy did not like this guy and who he was with.

"Is Dean Winchester here?" the man asked.

"Sure," Buffy said.

There were footsteps as the door closed before a man Bobby's age in a suit entered the living room. Buffy walked in and went back over to her friends, but Dean didn't miss the annoyed look she was giving the man.

The man frowned at Dean and spoke in a British accent. "Are you Dean Winchester?"

Dean crossed his arms, looking the guy up and down. "Who wants you know?"

The man's face brightened at having found the right person. "My name is Edmund Gracie. I'm your new Watcher."

Dean stared at him for a moment before busting out in raucous laughter. "I'm sorry, my what?"

"Your new—" began Edmund seriously.

"I heard you the first time," Dean interrupted, all traces of laughter gone from his voice and face as he narrowed his eyes at the Watcher. "No, thank you."

Edmund blinked in confusion. "Mr. Winchester—"

"Look, no offense, but I don't need Jeeves the librarian following me around all day," Dean told him.

Xander and Willow started sniggering a little at Dean's attitude.

"Mr. Winchester, it is tradition for the Slayer to have a Watcher," Edmund explained.

Dean glanced at Buffy real quick. "I don't see Buffy with a Watcher."

Edmund glanced uneasily at Buffy out of the corner of his eye. "Buffy has regrettably quit the Watcher's Council."

Dean shrugged with a smirk. "Swanky. I quit, too."

"Mr. Winchester, you need a Watcher to train you to be able to fight the forces of darkness," Edmund tried to persuade him.

Dean stepped menacingly closer towards the man. "Alright, look, pal. I've been fighting monsters since I was six, long before I had these fancy new Slayer powers or a _Watcher_ to help me. You know why I don't need a Watcher to train me? Because my father was a hero. _He_ trained me to fight the forces of darkness. I think I'll be fine."

Edmund tried to stand his ground as Dean stared him down five feet in front of him. "Mr. Winchester—"

"No," Dean growled at him.

"But, Mr. Winchester, you—"

"You say 'Mr. Winchester' one more time, I will punch you in the face," Dean gritted out.

Buffy smiled, giving him an approving look, when he said that.

"I take it we can't convince you otherwise?" asked Edmund.

"That sounds about right," Dean nodded.

"Good day, then, Mr.—" Edmund caught himself, "Dean." He turned towards the foyer and closed the door behind him.

Dean looked incredulously at the Sunnydale gang. "Are they all like that?"

"Yes," the gang chorused at him.

Dean shuddered. "Dodged a bullet with that one."

"Well, Buffy's Watcher wasn't that bad," Dawn piped up. "Well, the second one, maybe, but her first Watcher…He even quit the Watcher's Council with Buffy."

"Well, you'll have to fill me in on how your gang works here," said Dean.

"I'd like to go back to the whole 'Dean's fought monsters since he was six' thing," said Xander. "Now, that sounds like a story."

Dean chuckled. "You have no idea."


	12. Chapter 12

Help Me!

I have no clue where to go from here beyond the first page of the next chapter.

I'll take any ideas you guys have. Here's where you get creative.

My writer's block popped up again.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter Twelve

**Thanks to everyone who gave me ideas. I already had one of the ideas written into the chapter already, but you guys helped me figure out what to do with the story. Thank you!**

"Okay, so, let me get this straight," began Dean, trying to make his way through the story. He looked at Buffy. "You're a Vampire Slayer." He turned to Anya. "You used to be a vengeance demon for a thousand years until a wish gone wrong left you human." He looked at Willow and Tara. "You two are witches." He looked at Dawn. "You used to be a mystical key that a group of monks transformed into Buffy's sister that a hell-god used to open a hell portal, which turned you human." He turned to Spike. "And you're a vampire that the government put a chip in his head so that he couldn't hurt people anymore."

_My God, it sounds like a supernatural soap opera,_ Dean thought.

Then again, someone might say that about _their_ lives, too. If it hadn't been his life the past twenty-nine years, he would think it was all some dramatic show, too. Sometimes, he was completely amazed at what hunting threw at them next.

"And you're a male Slayer that sold his soul and went to hell—" said Buffy, then glancing over at Bobby, "a hunter who runs an auto shop-slash-hunting headquarters—" she looked over at Sam, "and a guy with demon blood that gives him psychic powers of visions, exorcizing demons and sending them to hell."

"And that was spit balling in a nutshell," said Xander. He chuckled. "See what I did there?"

Dean stared at him. "Hilarious." He looked at Sam. "Well, Sammy, it looks like we found people more screwed up than we are."

"Dean!" hissed Sam.

"No, it's okay," said Willow. "We know we're freaks."

"And proud of it," announced Anya with a giant smile.

"So, you said something back in the nest about fixing the hellmouth?" asked Buffy.

"Fix the hellmouth?" said Xander. "Don't you think we would've done that already if it were possible?"

Dean shrugged. "Well, you don't know the things Bobby does."

"Well, I bet he doesn't know the things Giles does," said Tara.

Dean frowned. "Who's Giles?"

"Buffy's Watcher," explained Dawn. "He's pretty smart."

"I thought she didn't have a Watcher," said Dean.

"Well, he stayed on as kind of her Watcher pro tem," Willow told him. "He used to train her, but then—"

As Willow launched into an explanation about this Giles, that sixth sense niggled at the back of Dean's mind. Knowing this was his chance to test out his theory, Dean quickly looked over at Buffy to find she was frowning and glancing around a little.

_So, she felt it, too,_ Dean mused.

He had been wondering for a little bit if he felt Castiel coming because of the Slayer thing or because of some bond since he'd been the one to pull him from hell. It looked like it was the former of the two.

Buffy looked at Dean to find him watching her warily. "You feel that, too?"

Dean nodded as everyone paused to watch the two of them. "Heads up. Angel coming in for a landing."

"Angel?" asked Dawn, an excited look on her face for some reason.

Dean nodded past them to where Castiel now stood on the other side of the room. They all looked behind them and jumped, backing away from him a little.

"How long has he been there?" asked Buffy warily.

"About five seconds," Dean told her. "This is Castiel."

"The angel that pulled you from hell?" asked Willow.

"Yeah," said Dean.

Castiel nodded at Buffy. "Hello, Buffy. It is good to see you are well."

Dean frowned, stepping through everyone towards Castiel a few steps and pointing at Buffy. "Wait, you…you knew about her…and you didn't tell me?"

"It was not of import," Castiel told him slowly.

Dean stared incredulously at him. "There was another Slayer out there and her gang of Slayerettes that knew exactly what was going on with me, but you didn't think it was of import to tell me?"

"You were already on your path towards her," Castiel stated simply. "I saw no reason to impede."

"Oh, no," said Dean. "It only would've shortened our research by, oh, four months."

Sam stepped forward to intercede before Dean tried to use his strength to hit Castiel. "What did you come to tell us, Cas?"

Castiel turned his gaze onto Sam. "The demons are trying to break a seal."

"Those things that unlock the devil's cage?" asked Xander.

"Yeah," Dean answered quickly before turning his attention back to the angel. "Where?"

"Greybull, Wyoming," Castiel answered, stepping towards Dean. "I'll take you immediately."

"Great," said Dean, motioning Sam and Bobby over. "Lock 'n load, guys."

"Wait, we're coming," Buffy told them, stepping between Castiel and Dean.

"We can handle it," Dean told her.

"Won't it go much easier with help?" Buffy pointed out. "Besides, I wanna see how your team works."

Dean stared at her for a moment before looking past her at Castiel. "Can you take all of us?"

Castiel nodded stiffly.

"Fine," Dean responded.

"Everybody grab weapons," Buffy told her gang, moving to a chest along the wall and opening it.

Inside the chest were broadswords, axes, crossbows, daggers and stakes. Buffy pulled out two stakes and an axe for herself as Spike, Willow and Xander headed in for their own weapons.

_Typical amateurs,_ Dean thought. _No clue about half the crazy crap out there in the dark._

Dean stopped that train of thought, realizing that he and his brother hadn't known about the other half of the crazy crap out there, either.

_Not important, Dean,_ he told himself. _They're gearing up for the wrong thing._

"Whoa, whoa, guys," Dean told them. "That's quite the arsenal, but it isn't gonna do much. These are the possessing kind of demons, remember? Not the hack-n-slash monster kind."

"Right," said Buffy, putting the axe back but keeping her trusty stakes. "What works on those, again?"

"Iron, salt, holy water, devil's trap, exorcism, Sammy here," Dean told them with a head tilt towards his younger brother.

"Can he kill them?" asked Willow. "Or is it just the sending them to hell thing?"

"No, I can't kill them," said Sam. "Not yet, anyway."

"Yet?" asked Dean. "You saying you're getting more powerful?"

Sam nodded slightly. "I think so."

"So, does that mean you're, uh…" began Dean, not wanting to tell the others about his drinking demon blood thing.

Sam nodded. "I kind of have to. It's the only thing that helps."

Dean nodded slowly, not really liking that answer. But at least his brother was being honest with him for once. If this had been a year ago, Sam would probably be lying through his teeth right about now. After all, he had kept a lot from him during his search for a way to break Dean's deal. But now, the two of them were communicating. Maybe they could be brothers again, after all.

"I'm not saying I like it," Sam continued. "But…you do what you have to do, I guess."

Dean nodded. "Alright. But don't leave me out of the loop. Anything happens, I'm the first one to know, okay?"

Sam nodded back. "Definitely."

"What are you guys talking about?" asked Xander.

Dean and Sam looked back over at them and spoke at the same time. "Nothing."

"Well, I have a few of those things," said Buffy, going back to their earlier conversation. "Now, we got an arsenal of demon killing-slash-hurting weapons."

"Oh, and we got this thing," Dean added, pulling Ruby's demon-killing knife from his jacket.

Buffy gave the knife an admiring glance. "Wicked. What's it do?"

"Kills demons," Dean told her. "Useful as hell."

"Nice," said Buffy, pulling some bottles of holy water from the chest, passing them out along with a few daggers. "So, what? Castiel's gonna…fly us there?"

"Teleport, actually," Dean told her.

"Actually, the process of the transportation is a manner of flight so swift the human eye cannot perceive it and simply interprets it as teleportation," Castiel explained.

The Sunnydale gang stared at Castiel's blank, monotone voice and dictionary-like explanation while Sam, Dean and Bobby simply shook their heads fondly.

"Okay, let's do this," said Buffy as she, Willow, Spike, Xander and Anya gathered around them and making sure everyone was touching.

"I'll stay with Dawn," Tara told them, heading over to the couch where Dawn was sitting.

"Bend your knees," Dean warned them as Castiel reached towards Dean's forehead.

In a split second, the nine of them were standing in an alley behind a building. The Sunnydale gang all reacted like Dean had expected: with cries of shock and surprise…all but one.

Anya shrugged. "That was much better than when I used to teleport back in my demon days."

"We can move through time and space very smoothly," Castiel responded. "Angels have much more power than demons."

Anya frowned at him. "Was that condescending? I think that was condescending! I resent that! What, just because you have a halo makes you better? Demons can be beneficial members of society, you know!"

"You are not a demon," Castiel stated. "You are a human. I have no quarrel with you."

"But you just—" began Anya.

"Anya, it's pointless," Dean told her. "Let it go."

"So, where's this seal we're supposed to stop?" asked Bobby.

Castiel led them out from behind the building, standing and staring at a funeral home across the street.

"Okay, then, what's the seal?" asked Dean.

"There is a demon inside," Castiel told them. "You must stop him."

Spike frowned at him. "That's it? Stop a demon? What, an all powerful angel can't do that himself?"

"The building has been layered in Enochian warding script," Castiel told them. "I cannot penetrate it."

"Angel proofing?" asked Sam, scanning the building but seeing nothing. "Where?"

"They are special symbols that are only visible to angels, demons or human spirits," Castiel answered.

"Okay, so, we go in, catch the bad guy and kill him before he breaks this seal thing," Buffy simplified. "Problem solved."

"Hold on a minute, Xena," said Dean, wanting to stop the trigger happy Slayer. "What's the seal, Cas?"

"The seal is broken by the death of two reapers under the solstice moon," Castiel explained.

"That's tonight," Willow told them.

"Wait, reaper?" asked Xander. "As in, Grim-comma-the?"

"No, not the Grim Reaper," Sam explained. "There are dozens—hundreds—of them. They don't cause death; they just usher your soul to the other side."

"Okay," said Dean. "Two reapers held hostage by demons." He smirked at the others. "Piece of cake." He started towards the funeral home as the others began to follow.

"Dean."

Dean turned back to Castiel, the others stopping with him.

"The demon holding them is very powerful," Castiel informed him. "Very dangerous."

"Okay…" muttered Dean, not sure what Castiel was telling him; all demons were dangerous if you didn't know what you were doing.

Castiel leveled a fierce stare at Dean. "It's Alistair."

Dean's eyes widened as his gaze shot over to Sam, who shared his alarmed expression. Dean looked back at the funeral home, the mission ahead of them taking on a whole new meaning.

"What is it?" asked Buffy. "Who's Alistair?"

Dean continued to stare at the building that held his torturer. "Really bad news."


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter Thirteen

**Special thanks to Abigael Ryan for the idea of bringing Angel in, and to House1Nocturne and tranland for their idea as well. The three of you helped me come up with a plot that will help this story go on for quite a few more chapters and where I will end it, also. Thanks so much!**

"What's 'really bad news'?" asked Xander. "What does that mean?"

"Alistair is the grand master of torture in the pit," Dean explained, leaving out the personal side of things. At their blank stares, he added, "Hell."

Anya glanced over at the funeral home with trepidation. "Well, that can't be good."

Dean stared over at her. "Gee, ya think?"

"So, we're talking demon?" clarified Buffy. "Your kind?"

"Yeah, the black-smoke-possessing kind," Dean told her.

"Come on, enough chit chat," Sam told them. "They could have killed the first reaper already."

They immediately set off across the street for the building, easing through the front doors. Sam silently slipped a salt gun out of the duffel he had brought from the Summers house while Dean pulled out the demon knife. Buffy followed closely behind the brothers while keeping her gang behind her as back-up, knowing the two hunters knew more about this area of the supernatural than they did.

They checked each room as they came to it, but it wasn't until they came to the back room that they saw Dean and Sam freeze, edging back behind the wall in the hallway. Buffy tapped Dean's shoulder, understanding that this was not the time to make noise. Dean looked over at her and held up one finger, telling her that there was only one demon in the room.

Buffy frowned and shook her head at him, hoping he got the message that one demon just sounded too easy, almost like a trap. Dean nodded his head in agreement and motioned for her and the others to stay there. Dean looked back over at Sam and shared a nod before Sam turned the corner, aiming into the room and firing off a shot.

Someone in the room yelled as they were hit with the rock salt, and Sam charged into the room, Dean following right behind him. Buffy held out her hand to keep the others back, listening for her moment. The fight sounds grew a little louder and quicker as the battle escalated before there were suddenly too many footsteps in the other room, telling her the demons laying in wait had joined them.

"Now," Buffy told her friends.

Buffy charged into the room, finding Sam and Dean grappling with five demons as two reapers lay on the floor inside a symbol drawn underneath them. Buffy targeted the closest one, aiming a kick to the head. They struggled with the demons for all of five seconds before Buffy found herself flying towards the wall and pinned there by some force. She quickly looked around to find Sam, Dean and all the others in the same predicament. The only ones still in the center of the room around the two reapers were the demons and a red-headed witch.

"Willow!" Buffy called out, seeing her friend had been knocked unconscious sometime during the charge and lay on the floor near the reapers.

A tall, arrogant-looking guy walked into the room, the obvious source of the apparent telekinesis holding them to the walls.

"Hello, boys," said the man with a heavy lisp and slightly nasal voice. His eyes turned pure white. "Find the place okay?"

"Alistair," Dean growled out, glaring at him.

"Dean," Alistair shot back at him, eyes returning to normal. His gaze swept over to Buffy and her friends. "And company. I had no clue you were so connected. How fortuitous that your paths should cross. After all, your destinies are more entwined than you realize."

"Oh, God, you're not gonna lecture us, are you?" said Dean. "Why don't you just get to your little seal?"

"All in good time," said Alistair. "Moon's not quite in the right spot yet, so I thought we might have a little chat."

"Spare me the pain," Dean muttered.

"Wasn't there, didn't do that," Alistair shot at him. "But then, you already know that, don't you? I'm sure you've had plenty of visits from me in your nightmares lately."

Buffy frowned in confusion, wondering why this demon specifically would haunt Dean's nightmares.

"Poor, broken little Dean," Alistair voiced with mock sympathy. "You were just so weak. I do confess myself disappointed. You had such promise."

Buffy's frown deepened, trying to figure out what this demon was talking about.

Alistair caught her frown and looked over at her. "What, he didn't tell you? I'm surprised you hadn't connected the dots. What do you think happened to him in hell? Puppies and rainbows?"

Buffy's eyes widened as she realized why Dean's face had darkened in the alley when he had said Alistair's name. "You tortured him."

"And Miss Summers wins the grand prize," said Alistair as he paced in her direction. "But that's not even my favorite part." He turned his gait towards Dean, edging closer to him. "You have no idea how bad it really was, Dean, what you really did for us."

Dean frowned, not really sure what he was getting at.

"Oh, the whole bloody thing, Dean," said Alistair with an air of delight. He seemed to revel in the fact that he was telling him this. "The reason Lillith wanted you there in the first place. Every night, the same offer, remember?"

Dean's eyes shot over to Buffy and the others before quickly returning to Alistair. He **really** did not want Buffy to find out about what he'd done in hell like this.

_Well, at least Sammy already knows,_ Dean thought.

"And finally, you said, 'Sign me up,'" Alistair gloated. "Oh, the first time you picked up my razor, the first time you sliced into that weeping bitch…"

Dean felt Buffy's shocked and accusing eyes on him from across the room.

"That was the first seal," said Alistair.

It took a moment for Alistair's words to sink in, but once they did, Dean's heart froze in his chest. _No…it can't be true…_

After all the horror he had already caused in hell, it couldn't have been him that brought it all right here to earth.

"You're lying," Dean gritted out between clenched teeth.

Alistair stared at him. "'And it is written that the first seal shall be broken when a righteous man sheds blood in hell. As he breaks, so shall it break.'"

Dean's heart broke out of the frozen chokehold and plummeted straight down his throat. _Oh, my God…It's true…_

"We had to break the first seal before any of the others; only way to get the dominos to fall, right?" said Alistair, pacing back behind the reapers in the middle of the room. "Top of the one at the front of the line…"

Dean looked down at the floor, unable to stomach seeing the demon that had caused him to do all that.

"When we win—when we bring on the apocalypse and burn this earth down—we'll owe it all to you…Dean Winchester," Alistair gloated, savoring Dean's name as though it were a delicious candy.

_And doesn't that thought creep me out,_ Dean thought.

Alistair shrugged with a vague air of disinterest. "Although, we did almost owe it to Angel."

"Angel?" Dean and Buffy said at the exact same time, although for different reasons.

Dean had no clue who Angel was. Did Alistair mean to says the angels, or was Angel someone important? Buffy, on the other hand, was completely puzzled as to what Angel had to do with this demon and the end of the world.

Alistair chose to aim his answer at Dean first. "She didn't tell you about her first boyfriend? Wow, a lot of love and trust in **this** room. I guess it would be hard to tell a hunter you'd dated a vampire."

Dean looked over at Buffy with an incredulous look. "Vampire?"

Buffy looked at him, her eyes pleading with him to understand. "He was good. He had a soul."

"Which made him the perfect candidate," Alistair went on.

_God, is he ever gonna shut up?_ Dean thought.

"A man atoning for all the evil his alter ego committed?" said Alistair. "Now, that's a righteous man if I ever saw one."

"Oh, please," grumbled Spike in annoyance.

Alistair flicked his hand, and Spike coughed up a lungful of blood.

"Did I say it was your turn to talk?" said Alistair. He looked back at Buffy, walking towards her. "I had Angel on my rack for a hundred years, but…he never did crack." His tone grew angry and infuriated at the next sentence. "And then he found the escape hatch. I was not a happy demon that day."

"There's an escape hatch in hell?" asked Dean.

Alistair shrugged as he edged closer to Buffy. "It seems God doesn't like things being where they don't belong. He put a portal in purgatory if a human ever got trapped there with all the other monsters, and there's one in hell for the monsters that get pulled in somehow. Apparently, hell was only ever meant for damned souls. And Angel found it." A wicked smile stretched across his face. "But not before I'd left my mark." He leered at Buffy, practically in her face. "**You** recall the outcome of that, don't you?"

Buffy did remember: Angel had returned from hell a complete wreck, unable to keep the monster in him at bay anymore. And perhaps he had even let it: escaping inside of himself to get away from the memories and pain of what he had been through at Alistair's hands.

"Well, we'd lost our prize pig," said Alistair, easing out of Buffy's face. "So, I turned my attention…" he turned his head towards Dean, favoring him with another evil smirk, "to your daddy."

Dean glared at Alistair, fearing that this topic would come up. John had, after all, sold his soul to save Dean and gone to hell. He had just hoped the demon who had tortured him hadn't done the same to his father.

"What better example of a righteous man than the best hunter out there?" said Alistair, walking towards Dean. "I had your pop on my rack for close to a century. John Winchester made quite a name for himself. A hundred years. After each session, I'd make him the same offer I made you; I'd put down my blade if he picked one up."

Buffy's eyes softened as she stared at Dean. _So, he'd only turned to torture because they said they would stop._

She realized that Dean wasn't some monster; he just couldn't take the pain anymore.

"But he said 'nein,' each and every time," said Alistair. "I couldn't break him, pulled out all the stops. But, John, he was made of something unique, the stuff of heroes." He sighed suddenly, turning away from Dean and heading back to the middle of the room. "And then came Dean. Ah, Dean Winchester. I thought I was up against it again. So, I threw Plan B into action. I needed a contingency plan, should you prove just as stubborn as your father."

Buffy glanced down at Willow on the floor, searching for signs of life. Willow was starting to move a little, seemingly waking up. Buffy just hoped Alistair didn't notice. If Willow could get conscious enough, she could get the demons away long enough for Buffy and the others to take care of them.

Alistair looked over at Buffy, who quickly returned her glance to him and away from Willow. "If the seals couldn't be broken, I needed someone to tear down the barriers between my world and yours. I would watch as the world tore itself apart at the seams, ultimately breaking the lock on Lucifer's cage. But then again, Buffy already knows that story."

Buffy frowned. "I do?"

Alistair rolled his eyes. "No wonder your kind needs Watchers to do your thinking for you. Who do you think released Glory in the first place?"

Buffy froze as realization flooded over her. "So…this past year, protecting Dawn, my death—it was all for nothing?"

"Oh, no, not nothing," said Alistair. "That swan dive of yours **was** quite entertaining."

Buffy glared at him, hardly able to believe that this demon had set Glory upon her and her family when Dean had ended up breaking his precious seal anyway. The whole thing had been completely pointless.

"Oh, buck up, kiddo," said Alistair. "After all, if it wasn't for Glory, you never would've had a sister, now, would ya? All depends on how you look at it. But I needn't have worried, 'cause Daddy's little girl…" he grinned over at Dean, "he broke. He broke in _thirty_. Ah, just not the man your daddy wanted you to be, huh, Dean?"

"You needed **that** many back-up plans?" said Dean. "Sounds like you're compensating for something."

Alistair stared at him for a second before slowly stepping towards him. "Every being in creation knows the Winchesters' penchant for screwing with the plan. _Of course_ I had that many back-up plans." He stopped in front of Dean, leaning into his face. "And what do you know? It worked."

Dean had turned his head away from Alistair, grimacing at the proximity, and he suddenly spotted Willow on the floor, staring at him.

_Keep him distracted, _Willow's voice came in his head. _I'll get you free._

_On my signal,_ Dean thought back at her, giving an imperceptible nod.

Dean looked back at Alistair, staring him straight in the eye. "Well, I bet there's one thing you didn't count on."

"Oh, yeah?" said Alistair, easing away from Dean as he pulled a wicked-looking scythe out of his pocket. "What's that, Dean?"

Dean sent a smirk his way as Willow raised her hand.

"_Solvo!_" whispered Willow, her hand stretched towards Dean.

Dean brought his fist forward, slamming it into Alistair's nose with as much of his newfound strength that he could. Alistair flew backwards, hitting the wall on the opposite side of the room.

Alistair stared with wide eyes at Dean, unable to figure out how he'd done that. "How…"

Dean stepped away from the wall, freed from Alistair's grip by Willow's spell. "You're looking at the newest recruit to the Slayer initiative."

Alistair's eyes narrowed in suspicion, and he almost hissed out his next word. "Angels…"

"Actually, you kinda have yourself to thank for that," Dean told him.

Alistair looked genuinely confused rather than overconfident for the first time that night.

"If you hadn't released Glory and ultimately forced Buffy to sacrifice herself, I wouldn't have gotten her powers when she died," Dean gloated with a smirk.

Alistair's face fell as he realized that he had, indeed, helped lead to Dean being stronger.

"And now, I'm gonna use 'em to kick your ass," Dean growled at him, eager to pay him back for all the pain he'd caused him in hell.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter Fourteen

**Oh, man! I'm so excited for this chapter! I have been searching ever since the end of the last one for a way to get Castiel to be influenced by Dean and Buffy more, but he's, like, never around. I just may have discovered a way to keep him around! All you Cas fans out there should be happy! I know I am!**

Dean landed in a crouch with the others as Castiel dropped them into a dark room. Castiel suddenly collapsed next to him.

"Whoa! Cas!" Dean yelled, catching the angel as he tumbled towards the floor. "Cas!" He barely spotted a circular table with benches and chairs nearby. "Someone help me!"

Sam took Castiel's other arm, and they eased him down onto the bench next to the table. The lights came on as Dean leaned over Castiel, whose eyes were shut.

"Cas!" Dean tried again with the same response. "Dammit…"

"What happened to him?" asked Willow.

"It must've been that thing Alistair was doing," Dean theorized. "This is not good."

When Dean had started beating on Alistair at the funeral home, Willow had used her spell to free Sam and Bobby first, since they knew how to deal with him. When Alistair had been subdued, they dragged him towards the front door and Castiel since Sam wasn't powerful enough yet to kill a demon that strong and they weren't sure the knife would work. Castiel had been standing on the sidewalk just outside the Enochian wards, waiting.

As soon as they stepped foot outside the place, Alistair had begun chanting something in a strange language, glaring at Castiel. Castiel had immediately laid a hand on his forehead and smote him, white light bursting from Alistair's eyes and mouth. Castiel had looked like he was a bit unsteady, so they suggested they get back to Sunnydale at once.

Dean glanced around to see they were in some kind of shop. "Where'd he drop us, anyway?"

"The Magic Box," Anya told him, heading back out from the counter, where the light switch probably was. "My shop."

"I better call Tara and Dawn and let them know where we are," said Buffy.

"I'll do it, Buff," Xander told her, heading over behind the counter.

Buffy looked down at the unconscious angel. "Does this happen often?"

Dean shook his head. "No. He doesn't even sleep." He frowned a little. "At least, I don't think."

"Well, now what?" asked Willow. "Is the seal safe?"

Bobby nodded. "The seal breaks if two reapers die, and they ain't dead, so—"

"So, we saved the day."

Everyone looked over towards the back of the store at the new voice to find Ruby standing in the doorway of a back room, her eyes black.

"Go, team," smirked Ruby.

Buffy charged towards the demon, but Dean flung himself in front of her, blocking her fist.

"You're protecting a _demon_?" said Buffy.

"She's one of the good guys," Dean told her.

The others all gave him skeptical looks.

"I know, I know," Dean brushed off. "I'm the last person I ever thought would be saying that, but it's true. She's helping Sam practice his psychic stuff so he can kill Lillith."

"Wow, Dean, I didn't know you cared," said Ruby behind him.

"I don't care," Dean told her. "I just recognize a comrade when I see one. We could use all the help we can get."

"Oh, Dean, I'm flattered," said Ruby, edging around him and heading over towards the table, frowning down at Castiel. "What's up with Feathers?"

"Nothing," Dean told her. "But, uh…I guess I owe you for…Sam. And I just wanted…you know…"

Ruby stared at him. "Don't strain yourself."

"Okay, then, is the moment over?" asked Dean.

Ruby nodded a little.

"Good, 'cause that was awkward," said Dean.

"So…you guys are collaborating…with a demon?" asked Buffy.

"Hey, you're the one who was dating a vampire," Dean shot back at her.

"Okay, so…now, we strategize," said Buffy. "Figure out where they're gonna hit next and…when they'll…strike…"

Dean frowned and followed her gaze towards the front door, where an older gentlemen wearing glasses and carrying some suitcases stood. The man put down his bags and stepped down to the main floor as Buffy went to meet him.

The man smiled and spoke in a British accent. "Oh, God, Buffy." He immediately pulled her into a hug as she hugged him back just as fiercely. "You're alive. And you're here."

Dean leaned over towards Willow with a frown. "This Angel?"

Willow made a slight disgusted face. "No, it's Giles."

Dean nodded. "Watcher. Got it."

"And you're still…remarkably strong," Giles told Buffy in a strained voice.

"Huh?" said Buffy. "Oh." She let him go. "Sorry."

"Willow told me, but I didn't really let myself believe," said Giles.

"I take a little getting used to," said Buffy. "I'm still getting used to me."

"It's, uh…You're…"

"A miracle?"

"Yes. But then, I always thought so." Giles put a hand on her cheek, smiling fondly at her.

Suddenly, the four or so lights closest to the table exploded in a shower of sparks as Castiel bolted upright on the bench, eyes wide and breathing heavily.

"Cas!" Dean exclaimed, leaning over him. "You okay?"

Castiel frowned as he stared at the floor. "I believe I am unharmed."

"What was that Alistair hit you with?" asked Dean.

"I am uncertain," Castiel told him. "But I do believe it was meant to cause me injury."

"Masterful deduction, Sherlock," Dean grumbled, straightening up.

"I take it this is our new Slayer," Giles said, his gaze sizing Dean up. His eyes then slid over to Castiel. "But who is he? Or what?"

"I got a better question," said Dean. He pointed to the doorway past Giles. "Who is he?"

Buffy looked at the doorway to see an older, portly gentleman standing there. "Oh. You." She crossed her arms in annoyance.

"Pleasure to see you again, Ms. Summers," said the man in a British accent.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Let me guess: Watcher's Council."

Buffy waved her hand at Castiel. "Giles, Castiel: angel." She waved her other hand in the man's direction. "Dean, Quentin Travers: Watcher's Council."

"I knew it," Dean grumbled, crossing his arms also.

"Mr. Winchester," Travers said as he walked towards him, "I strongly impress upon you the seriousness of the Slayer-Watcher relationship. As unprecedented as your calling is, every Slayer is to be assigned a Watcher to train them."

"Again, I point out Buffy," Dean told him.

"Buffy Summers had a Watcher in Los Angeles and then for almost three years in Sunnydale," Travers told him. "She has therefore met the appropriate training requirements. You, however, have had no such training. You will, therefore, train with a Watcher in order to meet the Council's orders."

Dean stepped closer to the man, hoping to use a deadly glare and the man's knowledge of his strength to intimidate him. "Listen, pal, I've taken orders my entire life. I ain't listening to anybody. And the hell I haven't had any training. I've been training for this since I was four. My dad was my Watcher. I don't need another one."

"I'll be his Watcher," Bobby said suddenly.

Dean whipped his head around to stare confusedly at Bobby. "Huh?"

"**You'll** train him?" asked Travers.

Dean glanced at Travers before quickly looking back at Bobby.

Bobby shrugged. "I've known him his whole life. I know his style."

Dean stared pointedly at him. "Bobby!"

"Very well," said Travers.

Dean quickly looked back at him.

"Mr. Winchester will begin training immediately," said Travers. "Mr. Singer, we'll be in contact." He turned towards the entrance to the store.

"Don't you need my number?" asked Bobby.

"We already have it," said Travers, stopping at the door and looked back. "It was good to see you again, Ms. Summers." He nodded at Giles. "Mr. Giles, good day." He headed out of the store and into the night.

Dean rounded on Bobby. "What the hell, Bobby?"

"Got him off your back, didn't it?" said Bobby with a smirk.

Dean froze as he realized what Bobby had done, and he smiled. "Nice one, Bobby." He looked at Buffy. "They don't give up easily, do they?"

Buffy smiled and shook her head. "Not really. It was nice having them stop by for nothing that had to do with me for a change, though."

"I don't think I could've stood taking orders from a stuffy, stuck-up British guy," muttered Dean. He looked at Giles. "No offense."

Giles gave a small smile. "None taken."

"Dean," came Castiel's voice.

Dean turned as Castiel stood from his seat at the table.

"I must return to heaven," Castiel told him. "My superiors will have orders for me."

Dean nodded. "Sure, go ahead. Just let us know if you get any leads on the seals."

Castiel nodded stiffly at him.

The next second, Dean's jaw dropped as two massive white appendages blinked into existence before disappearing just as quickly. Had he blinked, he would've missed it. Whatever Alistair had done had apparently weakened Castiel enough to make him stop concealing his wings to humans, for that had to have been what Dean had seen: two gigantic, pure white wings stretched over his head towards the ceiling as he prepared to take flight.

But Castiel's failure to hide his wings wasn't what worried Dean. What worried Dean was the fact that Castiel should have been gone five blinks of an eye ago, and the angel had doubled over against the table.

"Cas!" Dean called, rushing forward and putting a hand on his shoulder. "What's wrong? You okay?"

Castiel frowned with confused eyes down at the table. "I am unable to fly."

Dean stared at him. "You're out of angel mojo?"

Castiel glanced up at him before looking over at the bruise Willow sported on her forehead from when the demons had knocked her unconscious. He reached two fingers forward and touched her in the middle of the forehead. The next second, the bruise completely disappeared from her face.

Castiel looked down at his hand as he drew it back. "No, I am not powerless. But it seems as though Alistair's spell has temporarily weakened or disabled me."

Dean's eyes widened at the angel. "You mean you're grounded?"

Castiel looked up at Dean, nodding slightly. "To put it figuratively…yes. I cannot return to heaven."

**I know. It's a little short. But what a perfect cliffhanger!**


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter Fifteen

**THEN**

Dean's eyes widened at the angel. "You mean you're grounded?"

Castiel looked up at Dean, nodding slightly. "To put it figuratively…yes. I cannot return to heaven."

**NOW**

"Okay, how did Alistair manage to clip your wings?" asked Dean.

"The spell he had been reciting was meant to send me to heaven," Castiel explained. "I believe that smiting him in the midst of it interfered and did just the opposite."

"Well, that sucks," said Buffy. "So, he's sticking around?"

"Apparently," Dean said. He slapped a hand onto Castiel's shoulder. "Strap in, buddy. We're gonna have a good time." He gave the angel a wry smile.

The bell on the front door jingled as it opened, and Tara and Dawn came in.

"Okay, what'd we miss?" asked Dawn. Her eyes fell on Giles. "Giles!" She rushed over to the Watcher, giving him a big hug.

"Good to see you, too, Dawn," Giles told her with a smile.

Dawn pulled away from Giles and turned to the others. "So, what'd we miss?"

"Killed some demons, saved a seal, discovered the demons' secret plan from the past four years, Bobby became Dean's Watcher, and we shackled an angel to our side," Xander summed up.

Dean looked over at him. "You love doing that, don't you?"

"I assume we're not talking about a mammal when you say 'seal,'" Giles said.

Bobby nodded his head over towards the front of the lobby. "I'll fill you in." He led the Watcher away from the group to tell him what had been going on.

"So, you own a magic shop?" Dean asked Anya.

"Yep," said Anya. "It used to belong to Giles, but then he went to England."

Dean's gaze swept to a doorway in the back under a loft. "And what's back there?"

A rare, genuine smile spread across Buffy's face. "Oh, you're definitely gonna want to see that." She turned and headed for the room.

Dean shrugged. "Okay, then." He followed Buffy through the doorway, finding a room decked out to be a training room. "Wow."

There were gym mats, a punching bag, a vaulting horse, a wall of weapons and some dummy thing in the corner. It was like a hunter's dream training room.

"Welcome to my sanctum," Buffy said. She walked over to the weapons wall and picked up two padded sparring gloves, slipping them on. "Let's see what you got."

Dean frowned. "What?"

"Come on," Buffy told him, slapping the two mitts together and holding them out. "Let's find out if you're good enough to be my predecessor."

Dean stared at her. "You're serious?"

"What's the matter?" asked Buffy, putting her hands on her hips. "Chicken?"

Dean narrowed his eyes at Buffy. "Oh, you are so on." He took his jacket off, chucking it onto the vaulting horse.

Buffy toed off her shoes and kicked them to the side of the room as Dean did the same, taking his silver ring off and stuffing it in his jeans pocket. Buffy crouched her legs a little to brace herself and raised the padded mitts. Dean stepped forward and readied himself before aiming a punch at one. He kept his strength back, not wanting to hurt Buffy since it was only a training session. He followed his punch up with another punch and a kick.

Buffy smirked at him. "You know, I can handle myself. I think I've proven it more than once. Quit holding back."

Dean smirked back and then shrugged, letting loose with many firm punches, backhands, uppercuts, side kicks, spin kicks, roundhouse kicks and jump kicks. Breathing heavy and building up a slight sweat, Dean landed a heel in one of the gloves and took a step back as he rested.

Buffy lowered her arms to her side, fixing Dean with a daring glance. "Is that the best you got?"

Dean slowly smirked in the face of Buffy's challenging stare.

***********************************************SPN /BTVS********************************************* **********************

"So, what are we waiting for?" asked Ruby. "Let's hit the road and hunt the bitch down."

"We don't even know where Lillith is headed next, Ruby," said Sam. "We should take a step back, look for omens—"

"By the time we find any, she'll be long gone," Ruby countered. She began heading for the front door. "I'm off on the hunt, and if you know what's good for you, you will be, too."

"Not to take sides, but I agree with black-eyes there," Spike spoke up.

"Sam has a point, though," Giles said. "Better to narrow down Lillith's location before rushing in half-cocked."

"Giles and I will get on that," Bobby said. "You all have bigger concerns." He pulled out a newspaper and spread it on the table. "A bank was robbed about noon yesterday."

"And that's our problem, why?" asked Xander.

"Well, apparently, they noticed the money was gone after an attack in the lobby," Giles explained. "An eyewitness described the creature as a 'green and yellow, spiny-headed monster.'"

"An M'Fashnik demon," said Castiel suddenly from across the table.

Giles frowned. "But M'Fashnick demons generally don't act on their own. They perform acts of slaughter and mayhem for the highest bidder, which means someone out there paid him to attack the bank."

"Probably whoever got away with the money," said Willow.

Giles nodded.

"Time for the Slayers?" asked Anya.

Ruby frowned. "Slayers? You mean, plural?"

Sam turned a little more towards her. "Oh, yeah, I didn't call you after we found out. Dean is a Vampire Slayer."

Ruby stared at him for a moment. "Huh…Well, that figures."

A strained shout came from the back room, and they rushed back there to find the two Slayers in the mid-fight.

Dean swung his arm towards Buffy's head, which she expertly ducked. Buffy lifted her left leg as she ducked towards her right, nailing Dean in the ribs with her knee. Dean wrapped his right arm around her leg, pinning it to his side and grabbing her right hip with his left hand. He heaved her up off the ground enough to throw her into the wall.

Buffy hit the brick and landed on the floor in a crouch. As Dean rushed her, Buffy somersaulted to her right, smoothly rolling back up onto her feet. As Buffy got onto her feet, Dean turned and wrapped his arms around her, pinning her arms to her sides. Buffy immediately brought her head back, cracking her skull against his nose. Dean wouldn't relinquish his hold on her, so Buffy brought her heel down on his foot and then drove her elbow back into his nose, practically smashing his bruised nose.

Dean's hold loosened, allowing Buffy to pull free and spin towards him. She raised her leg as she spun, nailing him on the side of the head. Dean's body flipped over and landed on the floor as Buffy planted her foot to his neck. Dean swept Buffy's leg out from under her with his arm and rolled himself over as she landed, pinning her with his knees to her chest and an elbow in her throat.

Buffy shrugged. "Not bad, rookie."

"Not bad?" said Dean. "I kicked your ass."

"Who's to say I **let** you?" said Buffy, hauling her lets up suddenly behind Dean's back.

Buffy's legs latched around Dean's neck from behind, pulling him off of her and to the floor. Buffy grabbed Dean's legs at the same time and pushed, flipping him over onto his stomach.

Dean stood, rubbing his neck. "Touché."

"Are we interrupting?" said Xander.

Dean and Buffy glanced over at the others in the room.

"Just training," Buffy told him. "Why? We got a monster hunt?"

"We'll tell you on the way," said Bobby, leading everyone towards the front door.

*************************************************S PN/BTVS******************************************* **************************

Dean followed Buffy into her house, leading the others inside as well. He collapsed onto the couch, holding some gauze to a cut at his hairline.

"Ugh, what a stubborn little bastard," Dean grumbled, bringing the gauze down and looking at the blood on it.

"Don't worry," Buffy told him. "Super duper healing abilities come with the slaying gig."

"Alright!" smiled Dean.

"The way you got that demon was awesome!" Xander told Castiel. "I mean, you just put your hand on him, and he lit up! Awesome!"

"I'm glad I could inspire awe for you," Castiel responded.

Xander stared at him. "Right…"

"So…" said Dean, looking up at the angel, "your first ride in a car. What was that like?"

"Um…" said Castiel, seemingly giving it some thought, "slow. Confining."

Dean chuckled, thinking back to those impossibly huge wings he had seen in the Magic Box. "Yeah, I'll bet."

"You've never ridden in a car?" asked Buffy.

Castiel stiffly shook his head. "I have never had the occasion."

"Well, you don't know what you're missing," said Xander.

"Do you ever do anything humans do?" asked Buffy.

Castiel frowned confusedly. "My Father made both humans and angels in His image. We are similar in many ways."

Buffy smiled. "No, I meant, do you eat, watch TV, play video games?"

"No," said Castiel simply.

"Well, we're gonna have to fix that," said Dawn, taking hold of the angel's hand.

Castiel glanced down at Dawn's hand in his before following her towards the kitchen.

Sam gave Dean a half-worried, half-amused look. "This'll end well."

Sam helped Dean stitch his head as the others headed into the kitchen to find Dawn with a carton of ice cream open on the island, a spoon of ice cream held up towards Castiel.

"You can do it, Cas," said Dawn, edging the spoon towards him. "It tastes really good."

Castiel glanced at her before slowly accepting the spoon and bringing it to his mouth. As he swallowed the mouthful of Rocky Road ice cream, the whole room seemed to comically hold its breath for his reaction.

Castiel calmly looked back over at Dawn with a frown. "I appear to have a strange sticky sensation in my mouth."

Dean burst out laughing.

"It's the chocolate," Dawn explained. "It makes people thirsty." She turned and filled a glass with some water, handing it to Castiel.

Castiel accepted the glass and took a drink, setting it back down on the counter.

"Well?" asked Dawn.

"Refreshing," answered Castiel, staring at the glass of water.

Dean smiled. "She meant the ice cream."

Castiel's gaze moved up to Dean. "Pleasant."

"Alright," laughed Xander. "One down, a dozen to go."

A phone began ringing in Dean's jacket, causing him to frown.

_That doesn't sound like my ringtone,_ he thought.

He reached into his pockets, searching for the ringing phone. He finally pulled a cell out of an inside pocket, recognizing it as his father's.

"Is that…" asked Sam.

"Yeah," said Dean, opening the phone and bringing it to his ear. "Hello?"

Sam watched as Dean waited for the person to speak.

"He can't come to the phone," Dean told the caller. "Can I help you?"

Sam's interest piqued. _Who would be asking for Dad?_

After a moment or so, Dean spoke again. "Well, sorry to be the one to break this to you, pal, but John died more than two years ago…Who is this?"

Sam watched as Dean's jaw dropped a little. That was not good; rarely anything left Dean speechless.

"You know what?" said Dean finally. "I'll bet you me and my co-worker Sam can help you out. Why don't we meet up somewhere? Where are you at?" There was a pause. "Okay, then, Cousin Oliver's at about three tomorrow afternoon. See you then…You bet." He hung up and stared at the phone.

"What is it?" asked Sam, not liking the spooked look on his brother's face.

Dean looked up at him. "Some guy named Adam Milligan."

Sam shook his head a little, not recognizing the name from any contacts they had.

Dean stared long and hard at Sam, an angry glare forming on his face. "He says he's Dad's kid."


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter Sixteen

**I came up with the deal of how Dean got his Slayer powers just as I was writing this chapter, and it was perfect! I can't believe I hadn't thought of it before!**

Buffy took a deep breath before opening the door of the Magic Box. All her friends looked up at her as she walked in, shifting nervously in their seats. Buffy came to a stop just past the steps that led down to the main floor. Everyone sat and stood in uncomfortable silence for a while, not sure what to say. Willow suddenly stood, slowly stepping over towards her.

Willow frowned sadly at her friend. "I'm so sorry, Buff. I thought with the hell portal killing you, you would've gotten pulled into hell. I just never thought it'd be anything else. If I'd known you were…"

Buffy gave her a small smile. "It's okay, Will. I'm okay."

"You are?" asked Willow.

Buffy nodded. "Don't get me wrong, I was pretty messed up for a while about the whole thing. But after meeting Sam and Dean and hearing Dean's story about hell…it made me realize I could have ended up way worse. I could've been in hell, going through who knows what torture. But I got to experience something so…I don't know, heavenly? So, I'm okay. I promise."

Willow reached forward and pulled Buffy into a hug. Buffy hugged her back, holding her tight.

"I'm still sorry," Willow told her.

"You're forgiven, Will," Buffy responded.

Xander stood and wrapped the two girls in his arms.

"Hey, guys," Buffy spoke up, "while we're all Hugs-ville…there's something you should know." She hesitated a moment. "Spike and I kissed."

"You what?" everyone exclaimed as Xander and Willow broke the hug.

"It was the music," Buffy defended. "It was all rising and epic, and it just happened."

"How does it just happen?" yelled Xander.

Willow gave him a look.

"Not that we're judging," Xander quickly added.

"No, no, judge," said Buffy. "Way judge. I can't believe I would even think of doing…that." She shuddered. "I was feeling really down and I wanted to feel something besides that and…yeah."

"Okay…" said Willow. "Well…it's great you told us, but, uh, are you wanting to continue anything with Spike?"

Buffy grimaced in disgust. "No! God, no. It was a one-time thing, and I'm blaming it on the spell."

"What's that about a spell?"

Everyone looked up to find Dean, Sam and Castiel in the doorway of the shop.

"Long story," Buffy told them.

Dean glanced around the shop. "Where's Bobby?"

"Motel," Giles told them. "Sleeping, I believe."

"How'd it go?" asked Buffy.

"Ghoul ate our brother," Dean told them. "Like, a week ago. You?"

"Dance demon made us all burst into song," Buffy told him.

Dean grimaced. "And I thought **we **had it bad."

"So, Adam wasn't Adam?" asked Dawn.

Dean headed down to the main floor as Sam and Castiel followed. "Nope. Just the ghoul who ate him and took his form."

"And it's dead now?" asked Xander.

"Yep," answered Sam. "Cas recognized what it was when we met him and smote him. Made it real awkward with everyone else in the diner, though."

"That sucks, guys," Buffy told them. "I'm sorry."

"So, that's it?" asked Dean. "Musical demon?"

"Well, sort of," said Buffy. "You guys should probably know this. I mean, everyone else does."

Buffy hesitated a moment. For some reason, it was much harder getting it out the second time around.

"I, uh…I wasn't in hell when I died," Buffy told them.

Dean frowned. "Not in hell? Then where were you?"

"Heaven," said Castiel.

Buffy looked at him, frowning. "How did you know that?"

"Well, he **is** an angel," said Tara.

Castiel glanced at Tara for a second before looking down at the floor.

"What is it, Cas?" asked Dean.

Castiel hesitated before looking up at Dean. "My Father gave me an important mission to rescue Dean Winchester from hell."

Dean stared at him. "Uh, Cas, you kinda already told us that five months ago."

"And when I pulled him from perdition, I was to transfer Buffy's Slayer essence to him," Castiel went on.

Dean's eyes widened as his jaw went slack. "**You're** the reason I'm a Slayer?"

Castiel nodded.

"Why would God want me to be a Slayer?" asked Dean.

"I was not told," stated Castiel.

Dean frowned in incomprehension. "Then why did you do it?"

Castiel frowned back in genuine confusion. "If our Father gives a command, we are to obey Him without question."

"Well, that's just…weird," muttered Dean. "Why would God give an order like that?"

"The Lord works in—" Castiel began.

"Yeah, yeah, mysterious ways, I know," Dean said. "It was rhetorical, Cas."

"Father did tell me one thing," said Castiel. "I was not to tell my brothers or sisters what I had done."

"An angelic secret agent?" said Sam.

"So, let me get this straight," Dean began. "God tells you to take Buffy's super powers when she gets to heaven and then come down to pull me out of hell and give those powers to me, all the while telling no one you had done so."

Castiel nodded at him.

Dean looked over at everyone else. "What's that about? God's got some secret agenda for the apocalypse?"

"Okay, obviously none of us knows anything about this," said Sam. "Why don't we just focus on getting these seals saved and Lillith killed."

Dean sighed, his hands on his hips. "Sounds good to me." He looked at Buffy. "So, you were in heaven, huh?"

Buffy gave him a nod. "Yeah."

Dean sighed annoyingly. "Lucky."

Buffy chuckled a little, feeling again that reassurance that she had not had to suffer torture in hell like Dean had.

**********************************************SPN/ BTVS********************************************** *****************

The next couple months were spent hunting down what they considered to be mundane cases: a couple ghosts, a vampire nest—of the stake-and-dust variety, a Fyarl demon looking to make baby stew, and a werewolf. They did have a case that ended up being a seal, which they failed to stop from breaking.

And they just recently discovered a series of books written about their lives—from the day Dean pulled Sam out of Stanford to Dean being dragged to hell. When Dean and Sam had gone to investigate with Castiel, the angel had instantly recognized this Carver Edlund for who and what he really was: a prophet by the name of Chuck Shirley. Fortunately, a little display of angel mojo from Castiel had convinced Chuck that they were real.

Ruby and Sam were getting closer to narrowing down how to get to Lillith, and Castiel appeared to be opening up to the humans more. It wasn't really much, but compared to when Dean had first met him, it was a dramatic change. Castiel seemed to ask more questions than usual, curious about this human world he'd been stuck in the past couple months.

Castiel had also been "experimenting." He would try several things Dawn had suggested—watching TV, chocolate, going to the movies, an amusement park and board games. For some reason, he'd taken an interest to the game Sorry! He'd even taken Dean's advice and tried pie, the beer El Sol and driving.

Sam, Dean and Castiel would head out across the country on hunts—sometimes with members of the Sunnydale gang—but were kind of calling the Summers home and the Magic Box headquarters for the time being. Buffy had headed back to his house for a while before joining them again for the last hunt.

"So, let me get this straight," said Bobby after they'd gotten back from the werewolf hunt. "The first werewolf could actually do a wolf transformation, and they mated with a human and gave birth to the race of werewolves that **we** deal with?"

Giles nodded. "Much like the two races of vampires."

"Well, I may need to rewrite all my lore books," Bobby grumbled.

"Or I could loan you some," Giles told him. "We have a pretty good collection at the magic shop."

"Hey, guys, I'm gonna go grab something to eat," Buffy told everyone as she made her way towards her kitchen.

"Oh, that sounds good," said Dean, following her.

Buffy pulled a yogurt and a bag of Cheetos onto the kitchen island, sitting down to snack. Dean grabbed a cola and the Doritos, sitting across from her.

"Man, why am I always hungry after a hunt?" Dean muttered as he threw a chip into his mouth.

"It's a Slayer thing," Buffy told him, swallowing a mouthful of yogurt. "After a good slay, we crave snacks."

"As if I didn't eat enough already," said Dean.

"Well, you burn a lot of calories slaying, if that helps," Buffy added.

As Dean polished off his soda, he put the Doritos back and headed towards the kitchen door. "I'm gonna get some fresh air."

Buffy started on the bag of Cheetos as he headed out onto the small deck, leaving the door open a little. After a moment or so, a voice interrupted Buffy's snacking.

"Why do you fight?"

Buffy glanced up to see Castiel standing in the entryway of the kitchen. "What?"

Castiel stepped closer to the island. "Why do you fight?"

Buffy shrugged. "Well, I'm the Slayer."

Castiel frowned. "But you are not the only one. You haven't been for a long time. Even now after returning from paradise, you continue to battle for humanity's salvation. You now know of the many others fighting for the cause, and yet you do not resign."

Buffy nodded for a moment as she thought about her answer. She was intrigued; Castiel was actually trying to understand why Buffy did not simply take the easy way out and quit.

"It's who I am," Buffy told him. "I'm not gonna sit by while people get hurt when I have the skill and strength to do something about it. As long as I have the ability to fight, I won't let anyone die." She brightened as she remembered something. "Just like it says in the Declaration of Independence: those who have the ability to take action have the responsibility to take action." She felt quite proud of herself for remembering that.

Castiel blinked in surprise. "You remember your studies from school. I am impressed."

"Actually, I saw that on a Nicholas Cage movie," Buffy told him before quickly adding, "But it's true. That's what makes us human: our choice to fight."

Castiel gave an inquisitive frown with one of those head tilts Buffy had grown to love about him.

"What?" asked Buffy.

"It appears my brethren may have underestimated the human race," Castiel told her.

Outside the ajar door, Dean gave a small smile at the angel's words.

"Buffy!"

The scream had come from the direction of the living room, and it was one of pure terror.

Dean tore through the door, following Buffy's charge through the house with Castiel close behind them. They found the others in the living room in a mixture of unconsciousness and injury and in the center of it all was a black-haired girl with eyes that matched.

"Well, look who it is," she said, holding Dawn by the hair as the girl knelt on the floor. "I sure did miss you, Dean."

"Who are you?" asked Dean as Buffy tensed next to him in preparation to save her sister.

"Last time you saw me, I was riding your brother," she told him.

"Meg?" asked Dean.

"Hey, Deano," said Meg. "Word has it in hell that you're the new Slayer in town."

"Took the rumors long enough," Dean muttered.

"I came to see if it was true," said Meg.

"Sure," said Dean. "You let the girl go, and I'll kick your ass back to hell all you want."

Meg smiled at him in a sickly sweet way. "Cute." She flung Dawn across the room.

"No!" Buffy yelled, rushing towards her as she hit the wall and crumpled to the floor.

Meg charged towards Dean, who braced himself for the fight.

************************************************** ******SPN/BTVS************************************ **********

Castiel knelt down next to Buffy as she cradled her sister's limp form. Dawn had a lump that was gashed open on her forehead. Buffy looked up at him with tears in her eyes, easing Dawn towards him. Castiel reached his hand forward, touching Dawn's forehead. The gash and blood disappeared from Dawn's face, and she opened her eyes.

"Dawn!" Buffy hugged Dawn close.

"Buffy," Dawn breathed, hugging her back.

Castiel looked over at the fight between Slayer and demon. Despite Dean's strength, Meg seemed to have finally gotten in a lucky shot.

Meg had a knife in Dean's gut. "You're not doing a very good job at kicking my ass, Deano."

Dean was unable to fight back as Meg twisted the knife in his gut, causing him to gasp in pain.

"Dean!" Sam called, trying to pull himself to his feet as blood trickled down his leg.

Castiel quickly moved over to Meg, laying her hand on her head and trying to smite her.

"Nice try, Clarence," said Meg, shoving her sleeve up to show him a tattoo sigil. "But I came prepared for you." She moved the knife swiftly up, slicing through Dean's abs.

In desperation, Castiel wrapped a hand around Meg's throat, trying with all his might to get her away from Dean.

************************************************** *SPN/BTVS***************************************** ***********************

Buffy eased Dawn to the floor and jumped up, running towards the threesome and raising her hand to punch Meg. The next second, Dean dropped to the floor as Castiel and Meg disappeared. Buffy changed tactics at the last second, placing her hands on Dean's gaping wound.

"Dean!" Sam yelled, finally pulling himself across the floor to his brother.

Buffy pushed Dean's shirt up as he gasped and choked in pain. "We'll fix this. You're gonna be okay."

Sam pressed a palm on the wound, trying to staunch the blood flowing from his stomach. "Dean, hold on, man!"

Castiel suddenly reappeared kneeling next to Dean, touching him on the shoulder. Sam was now covering Dean's smooth abdomen with his hand, and he pulled his hand back.

Dean sat up, pushing his shirt down. "Well, look at you, Michael Landon."

Castiel touched Sam's knee, and Sam's broken leg straightened as the blood vanished. Castiel went around the room, healing those that were injured.

"So, the spell wore off?" asked Buffy.

"Yes," Castiel replied. "I have healed."

"Where'd you dump Meg?" asked Sam.

"The peaks of the Himalayas," Castiel replied.

Dean laughed out loud. "Did you put her on top of Mt. Everest?"

"In the middle of a blizzard," Castiel added stoically.

As everyone laughed, Sam turned to him with a smile. "You know, I think you've been hanging around Dean too much."

"I must return to heaven now," Castiel told them. "My superiors will have orders."

"Okay," said Dean. "Let us know what they say."

Castiel nodded. "You cannot tell anyone about my Father's true orders for me."

"No, yeah, my lips are sealed," Dean told him.

"Thank you," said Castiel before instantly disappearing.

"Well…our angel's got his wings back," said Buffy. "That's one problem solved. What was next on the to-do list?"


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter Seventeen

Dean snapped awake, frowning as his lingering sleep masked an unusual hum in his whole body.

"Dean."

Dean jumped, rolling over on the cot to see Castiel standing in the middle of the Summers' basement. "Jeez, Cas, knock much?"

"Dean," said Castiel.

Dean frowned at Castiel's tense, almost spooked tone. He **never** sounded like that. In fact, Castiel had never looked so freaked. His eyes were wide, and he kept looking around the room as though expecting an attack at any moment.

"Cas, what's wrong?" asked Dean.

"They're coming," Castiel told him, still watching for a mystery assailant.

"Who?" asked Dean, getting up off the cot.

"Angels," said Castiel.

Dean stared at him. "Okay…And?"

Castiel's gaze finally settled on Dean. "And they will destroy me."

"What?" Dean exclaimed. "Why?"

"I have rebelled against heaven," Castiel went on. "So that I may help the human race."

"What does that mean?" asked Dean.

"There is no time to explain," said Castiel quickly. "You must get Buffy. We do not have much time."

"You want us to fight angels?" asked Dean incredulously.

"Just hold them off," Castiel told him. "I'll take care of them."

Dean jumped off the cot and hurried towards the stairs. He suddenly froze as something akin to a psychic semi plowed into him. Something was coming…something big. A high-pitched hum began echoing through the room as it began to shake a little.

"Go!" shouted Castiel. "Hurry!"

But Dean was already halfway up the stairs. As light poured through the windows, Dean flung the basement door open.

"Buffy!" Dean yelled. "Get down here! We got incoming!" He charged back down the stairs, glancing over at Sam's cot near his own…it was empty. "Where's Sam?"

"He was not here when I arrived," Castiel told him, pulling an impressive silver blade out of his trench coat.

"What?" asked Buffy as she hurried down the stairs. "What's going on?" She looked worriedly at the shaking walls and otherworldly light coming in the windows.

"Angels!" Dean told her. "We need to hold them off while Cas takes 'em out!"

"But they're angels!" said Buffy.

"No time!" yelled Dean over the ringing.

The light, trembling and noise ceased in a second as four men in suits appeared, surrounding them.

"Castiel," said a black man in a low voice.

"Raphael," said Castiel. "Don't do this."

"You have fallen, Castiel," Raphael said. "You dare to disobey heaven?"

"Brother, see reason," Castiel pleaded. "There is another way. These cannot be our Father's orders."

"They are your superiors' orders," said Raphael. "Which you have failed to obey."

Raphael charged towards Castiel as the other three did also. Dean and Buffy each intercepted an angel, doing their best to keep them away from their friend. It was hard work; Dean felt like he was punching a sack of concrete. He pushed past the pain, relying on his heightened pain threshold and rapid healing powers. It also didn't help when the person you were fighting could move in the blink of an eye and was double your own strength.

A flash of light burst through the room, burning Dean's retinas. As Dean's eyes readjusted, the angel he was fighting grabbed him, pushing him back against a wall. As the room came back into focus, he saw the angel as he wrapped a hand around his throat. Dean raised a fist to punch him before the angel froze, light coming from his eyes and mouth. Dean slammed his eyes closed as he felt a wave of energy explode over him.

Dean opened his eyes as soon as it was over to see Castiel yanking his blade from the angel's back and pushing him to the floor. He disappeared, and there was another burst of light, forcing Dean to shield his eyes again. He glanced over afterwards to see the body of an angel falling to the floor at Buffy and Castiel's feet.

Dean stepped away from the wall, looking down at the three bodies on the floor. Underneath each body, a pair of massive wings was imprinted onto the floor, almost like charcoal.

"Wait a minute," said Dean, looking at the three bodies, "where's that Raphael guy?"

"Retreated," Castiel told him, stowing his blade back in his trench coat.

"What the hell was all that about?" asked Dean. "Last we saw you yesterday, you were headed back to heaven for orders."

"They gave me my orders," Castiel replied. "I found myself unable to comply."

"Why?" asked Buffy.

"They revealed their true plan to me," said Castiel. His eyes grew sad and disappointed. "Plans I would not have thought my brethren to ever be capable of."

*****************************************SPN/BTVS* ************************************************** **

"You think everything's okay now?" Dawn asked Willow up in Willow and Tara's room.

"Well, the house isn't all quaky anymore," said Willow.

"We may be alright," said Tara. "We should go check on Buffy."

"Yeah," said Willow as they got up and headed for the hallway.

They slowly made their way down to the first floor, keeping an eye out for danger. Several things had been knocked over in the quake, but it all seemed quiet. As they turned the corner into the dining room, footsteps came pounding up the basement stairs, and Dean came tearing around the corner, follow by Buffy and Castiel.

"Where's Sam?" Dean asked the three girls. "Did any of you see him leave?"

"No," Willow told him.

"Crap," Dean muttered, pulling out his cell phone and hitting a speed dial. He put the phone to his ear and waited a moment. "Damn it! He must be with Ruby. He always turns his phone off when they're training."

"But isn't Sam training a good thing?" asked Dawn.

"No!" Buffy and Dean exclaimed.

"I can do a locator spell," said Willow, hurrying to the dining room table and spreading out a map.

A few minutes after some confusing spell-casting, Dean was jumping into the Impala and heading across town. On the edge of the shopping district, he pulled up to an old house.

Sam looked up in confusion from Ruby's car in front of the house as Dean jumped out. "Dean?"

Dean rushed over to Sam. "I need to talk to you."

Sam closed the trunk of Ruby's car and began heading towards the house. "Can it wait? Ruby found a demon that may have information on where we can find Lillith."

Dean stepped in front of Sam, stopping him. "You can't kill Lillith!"

Sam frowned. "Since when?"

"Since it starts the apocalypse," Dean told him.

Sam's frown deepened further. "But Lillith is breaking the seals. We need to kill her to stop her from freeing Lucifer."

"Killing Lillith doesn't stop the apocalypse, it starts it!" Dean told him.

Sam stared at him. "What?"

"Lillith's death is the final seal," Dean explained. "You kill her, and you will open Lucifer's cage."

"Who told you this?" asked Sam.

"Cas," said Dean. "He popped in this morning with an archangel on his tail. When he went to get his orders, they told him their real plan. The angels want to free Lucifer so Michael can kill him and bring paradise."

Sam stared at him like he was insane. "And we'd be stopping them from doing this, why?"

"The battle's gonna torch half the planet, not that the angels give a crap," muttered Dean.

Sam's eyes widened. "Why would they wait till the last minute to tell Cas?"

"To keep the lower angels in line. If they had known about the plan, they would've rioted."

"So the angels are gonna let billions of people die?" said Sam. "And they're letting him out by getting **me** to free him? Couldn't they just…" He stopped, seemingly realizing something. "Oh, my God…That's why Ruby's been so gung-ho for the Lillith hunt. She's been using me to free Lucifer, the lying bitch!"

"Not to mention, fed you demon blood," Dean pointed out.

Sam's face twisted in disgust and rage. "Oh, my God…Now, I really wanna kill her."

Dean smirked. "Good to know we're finally on the same page."

"Sam."

Sam and Dean both looked over to see Ruby standing impatiently at the door of the house.

"Hog-tied and waiting for ya in here," said Ruby. "Let's go." She headed back into the house.

Sam's jaw clenched as he glared at the doorway she'd disappeared into.

Dean looked back at Sam, his angry glare still in place. "What do you say we go in there and give her a piece of your mind?"

Sam looked over at him, sharing his conspiratorial smile.

*************************************************S PN/BTVS******************************************* ***********

Ruby stood in front of the demon they'd tied to a chair inside a devil's trap.

_What the hell is keeping Sam? _she thought.

As though hearing her summons, the door of the room opened, and Sam walked in, followed by Dean.

Ruby frowned at the older brother. "You decided to stick around? I thought you were squeamish when it came to the whole 'Sam psychic' thing."

"Oh, trust me," said Dean. "I wouldn't miss this for the world." He was smirking at her in a way that made her very uneasy.

"Okay…" said Ruby. "Whatever." She turned towards the demon, who glared up at her. "Where's Lillith?"

"Go to hell," the demon spat at her.

"We can do this the easy way or the hard way," Ruby told him, tilting her head back towards Sam.

"I'm not telling you a damn thing," said the demon.

Ruby shrugged. "Hit it, Sam."

Ruby stared down at the demon, watching as the demon looked past her at Sam and frowned. The next second, electric agony radiated through her entire body. She screamed as her vision whited out. The pain lasted several moments before it stopped, and she leaned her hands on her knees, panting. She spun around to see the Winchesters glaring at her.

"What the hell, Sam?" Ruby demanded.

"What's the matter, Ruby?" said Dean. "Did we ruin your little goodwill mission to kill Lillith?"

Ruby glanced at Dean's glare and looked over at Sam's royally pissed off glare at her. "You know."

"About your plan to use Sam as a key to the devil's cage?" said Dean. "Oh, yeah."

Ruby looked back over at Sam. "Well…this puts a kink in my plan…" she gave them a smug smile, "but not a big one."

"You—" snarled Sam, raising his hand towards her again.

Ruby threw her head back, screaming as she bailed out of the body before Sam could get his clutches in her.

********************************************SPN/BT VS************************************************ ************

Sam sighed as Ruby's host dropped to the floor and the smoke flew out the window. "Damn it."

Dean patted Sam once on the shoulder. "Don't worry, Sammy. We'll hunt the bitch down." He pulled the demon knife out and began stepping towards the tied-up demon. "Now for this son of a bitch."

Sam raised his hand towards the demon, who coughed up the black smoke. The smoke fell down, burning through the floor and into hell.

Dean shrugged. "That works, too." He tucked the knife back into his jacket.

"We gotta find her," Sam said, turning towards him.

"Yeah, no arguing with ya there," said Dean. "I kind of wanna stick the bitch myself."

"No, you don't understand," said Sam urgently. "I know her. She won't stop until she finds another way to kill Lillith."

"You're serious?" asked Dean, frowning.

Sam huffed, giving Dean his classic bitch face. "No, Dean, I'm being incredibly sarcastic."

Dean held his hands up in a placating manner.

"We need to find her," said Sam. "Before she frees Lucifer."

**Oh, no! Will the Winchesters stop Ruby in time? Or will she kill Lillith and unleash the apocalypse?**


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter Eighteen

**Oh, man, I finally figured out how to get from Chapter 17 to the next big point in my story!**

Buffy stepped through the front door of her house, letting it slam closed behind her. She sighed long and hard, flipping her stray hair back behind her ear.

"Hard day?" asked Sam from the living room couch.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," Buffy told him.

Sam chuckled. "Let me guess: Psych class?"

Buffy rolled her eyes. "I wish." She stepped over to the couch and sat next to him. "College was all…brainy. Those people are, like, geniuses. Did they push school studies up a few years while I was dead?"

Sam laughed quietly.

"And that wasn't even the worst part," Buffy told him. "I was attacked by evil lint."

Sam stared at her. "You sure school didn't get to you?"

"I'm serious," said Buffy. "Everyone was zooming around like the roadrunner guy. And I found this thing on my sweater that exploded, and everything went back to normal."

Sam frowned. "Okay, that's weird."

"So then, I tried to work at the construction site with Xander, but these three apey demons attacked me. But then they just melted when I killed them and no one would believe me and I got fired. So, I went to work at The Magic Box, but my first customer made time repeat itself over and over."

"A witch?" asked Sam.

"Well, she didn't do it, but time kept repeating until I could finally sell her a mummy hand," Buffy elaborated. "But then I quit. I hated retail."

"I would, too, after that," said Sam. "So, Slayer's luck, or what?"

"I think something was setting me up; maybe testing me," said Buffy. "There was this black van that was in the college parking lot and outside the construction site and magic shop. I'm gonna look into it."

"I'll help," Sam offered. He held up a thick book. "It's not like we're getting anywhere on the Ruby hunt." He clenched his fist to stop it from shaking.

Buffy frowned, looking him over. The guy did not look good at all.

"Speaking of, how are you doing?" asked Buffy. "I mean, it's been a week, and you seem pretty messed up about her leaving."

Sam shook his head quickly. "That's not it, trust me. I mean, yeah, I am upset, but it's not like that." He clenched his shaking hands together. "It's, uh…withdrawal."

Buffy took in the pale skin, the red-rimmed eyes, the shaky limbs and the sheen of sweat across his face. She frowned. "From what?"

Sam sighed, hesitating. "Demon blood."

Buffy's frown deepened. "Demon blood?"

"The night Yellow-Eyes killed my mom, he was in the nursery to feed me demon blood. That's how I get my psychic abilities; there's demon blood in me. So to make me stronger…Ruby had me drinking demon blood."

"You drank demon blood?" asked Buffy in shock.

"I thought it was the way to make me stronger so I could kill Lillith." Sam shook his head. "But Ruby was just using me to free Lucifer. I've quit drinking, but…we were so close to getting Lillith that I…I got hooked on it. It's, uh…probably gonna get rough soon."

"Well, you need anything?" asked Buffy.

"Restraints?" said Sam.

Buffy laughed until Sam gave her a sober look. "You're serious?"

"I'm a hunter," Sam told her. "When my mind gets affected and I get delirious or whatever, I'll fight to get what I think I need. And when I fight, I usually win. Anyway, this isn't a usual detox. Who knows what's gonna happen."

"Well…we have chains…somewhere," Buffy told him. "You start going crazy, and Dean and I can handle you."

Sam nodded. "Sounds like a plan."

"Speaking of, where is he?" asked Buffy.

"Dean?" asked Sam.

Buffy nodded.

"Downstairs, training," Sam told her. "I think he's trying to see how hard he can push himself before he has a heart attack."

Buffy chuckled as she stood and headed down to the basement. She stopped at the bottom of the stairs, leaning on the railing and watching Dean. He was practicing his fighting techniques, by the looks of it. He had abandoned the punching bag and was aiming some punches and backhands at the air. After a couple, he then jumped into the air, spinning around and swinging his leg out in front of him in an excellent spin kick. He landed in a crouch, his hands held ready in front of him.

"You're catching on quick," said Buffy.

Dean turned towards her with a smirk on his face. "That was some good air, wasn't it? I think I was brushing the ceiling."

Buffy shrugged. "Not quite, but close." She stepped towards him as he picked up a water bottle and drank from it. "So…Sam's detoxing, huh?"

Dean's eyes shot over to her as he quickly brought the bottle down. "I thought we were keeping that on the down-low."

Buffy shrugged once again. "No reason to really hide it. Not that he could hide it. He's gonna look dreadful in a few days."

Dean took another drink before putting the water down. "I wasn't keen on the whole demon blood drinking when he first told me about it, so I'm kinda glad he's detoxing. But I wish he didn't have to go through it. I'd do it for him if I could."

"And that's why you made the deal," said Buffy. "To take his place."

Dean shrugged. "He's my brother."

Buffy nodded. "I know what you mean."

"That's why you jumped," said Dean. "So Dawn wouldn't have to."

"Of course," said Buffy. She gave him a knowing smile. "She's my sister."

Dean was suddenly struck by how much he and Buffy had in common. It wasn't just the calling of the Slayer and the battle between good and evil; they were both older siblings. Both of them would and had given their lives to save their younger brother or sister.

"Um, so…I've been thinking over the whole Slayer calling thing," Dean changed the subject. "So…one Slayer dies and another's called?"

Buffy nodded. "Them's the breaks."

"So, does that mean when I die, someone will become a Slayer?" asked Dean.

Buffy shrugged. "Hard to say. Maybe nothing'll happen because the Slayer line is carried on only through girls? Or maybe 'cause Slayer are girls, your successor will be a girl. Or, who knows, you might start your very own male Slayer line."

"Huh," mused Dean. "First of my own kind." He smirked. "I like the sound of that."

Buffy leaned her back against the punching bag.

"So, how was your day?" Dean asked her. "'Cause our Ruby leads kinda went nowhere."

Buffy groaned. "Oh, you don't wanna know."

Dean tapped the punching bag. "Tell me over a workout?"

***************************************SPN/BTVS*** ************************************************** **********

"You okay, Sammy?" asked Dean, standing in front of the living room couch.

Sam raised his head from his hand, looking up at his brother. "Yeah. Just a headache."

Dean raised his eyebrows at him. "You sure?" He didn't like the green tinge on his face.

Sam shrugged. "Maybe a little nauseous, too."

"Yeah, that's what I thought," said Dean, passing him a glass of water.

"No, thanks," said Sam, waving it away.

"You don't drink, you'll dehydrate yourself," Dean told him, holding the glass up. "Drink."

Sam reluctantly took the glass, trying to still his trembling as he took a drink. He grimaced and handed the glass back to Dean, shaking his head. Dean sighed and took the glass, turning back to head to the kitchen, and he just about ran into Castiel. Dean slammed to a stop, spilling water down his front.

"Dammit, Cas!" said Dean, shaking the water off his hands. "Announce yourself next time!"

"I apologize," Castiel told him. "I did not mean to frighten you."

"Whoa, hang on, I wasn't scared," Dean told him.

"Who wasn't scared?" asked Willow as she walked into the living room with Buffy and Xander.

"No one," Dean shot at her. He frowned over at Castiel. "How did I not know you were coming?"

"I have been in this house all day," Castiel told him.

"You have?" asked Dean. "Where?"

"Angels have the ability to shield themselves from man's sight," Castiel explained. "I sometimes do so to find a quiet place to pray to my Father."

"You mean, you can turn invisible?" asked Dean in surprise.

Castiel hesitated. "Not in so many words."

"Still hiding from the angels?" Buffy asked Castiel.

Castiel nodded.

"Good," said Buffy. "We can't afford to lose our guardian angel. By the way, I have a favor to ask. There's this van that's been following me lately. Is it possible for you to—" She froze, looking around for the missing angel. "Okay…"

"I have found the van."

Buffy turned to see Castiel standing in the room again. "You did? You were gone for, like, two seconds."

"Yeah, he does that a lot," said Dean. "So, where we headed?"

"I can take you immediately," said Castiel.

Sam stood as Buffy, Willow and Dean approached the angel.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," said Dean, putting a hand on Sam's chest. "Where do you think you're going?"

Sam frowned. "I'm gonna help."

"Not like this, you're not," Dean told him, trying to usher him back to the couch. "You're taking a sick day. Hell, a sick **week**."

Sam stopped Dean's pushing of him. "Dean, I'm going with."

"Sam, you are shaky and probably delirious," said Dean. "You can't hunt right now. Just take care of yourself for a little bit until the demon blood's outta your system, and then we'll talk."

Sam held Dean's gaze. "Dean, if I don't do something, I'm gonna go out of my mind and try to find the nearest demon. I have to go."

Dean stared into Sam's eyes, mulling it over. Maybe if Sam was focusing on the hunt, he wouldn't focus so much on the withdrawal.

"Fine," Dean relented, heading back over to Castiel. "But you start to hurl, and you're riding the bench."

"Got it," said Sam.

Castiel reached out to the four of them, and they found themselves in front of a one-story suburban house.

"This?" asked Buffy. "This is his lair?"

Dean elbowed her and pointed towards the driveway, where a big black van sat.

"Well, at least we know we're in the right place," said Buffy, heading to the door of the house.

Dean glanced over to see Sam shaking his head a little. "You okay?"

"Yeah, just a dizzy spell from the jump," Sam told him. "It's gone now."

"You sure?" asked Dean, watching him closely.

Sam gave him one of his bitch faces.

"Alright, let's go," said Dean quickly, following Buffy and Willow towards the house.

They managed to sneak in, finding all the lights on the main level off, but they heard voices coming from the basement. Buffy and Dean took the lead down the stairs as Sam and Willow followed. They emerged into what looked like a super geek lair: big screen TV, video games, action figures, comic books, Dungeons and Dragons game on the table, and bean bag chairs.

"And then we'll use the blowtorch—or _I'll _use the blowtorch—to cut through the case and get the diamond," came a guy's voice from the corner of the basement.

The four of them looked over and saw three young guys standing there.

"Then we'll have the power source for our invisibility ray," said the taller one with black hair.

Dean frowned. "An invisibility ray? Seriously?"

The three guys jumped and spun around.

"Jonathan?" said Buffy, looking at the shortest one. She looked over at the taller, black-haired one. "Warren?" She then glanced at the blonde one. "Who are you?"

"Um…Andrew," he answered.

Buffy frowned. "Who?"

"He's Tucker's brother," said Willow.

"Oh," said Buffy.

"You know these guys?" asked Dean.

"Unfortunately," said Buffy. "**You** guys did those things to me today?"

"That's right," said Warren. "And now we know your weaknesses, Slayer. We will defeat you. We're your arch-nemesis-is…es."

Dean raised his eyebrows in skepticism. "Seriously? Someone who can't even say 'arch-nemeses' is gonna kill the Slayer?"

"That's right," said Jonathan. "And there's nothing you can do about it!"

"Oh, yeah?" said Dean. "Bet you didn't know there were two Slayers in the room."

The three geeks' eyes immediately flew to Willow.

Andrew leaned towards the other two. "I thought Willow was a witch."

"I wasn't talking about her, dumbass," Dean growled.

They all looked at him with frowns. "You?"

Dean shrugged with a smirk. "Watchers Council got in trouble for the whole gender inequality thing."

"Guys."

Dean glanced over at Sam, who was looking around the basement in fear.

"Look alive," Sam told them. "Something's com—" He suddenly turned toward the area with the TV in it, his eyes wide in shock.

Dean frowned as Sam stared at the wall. "Sam?"

"No…" Sam gasped. "Alistair…"

Dean frowned and looked over at Buffy, who shared his confused look.

"You're dead…" Sam muttered, backing away from thin air. He suddenly flung himself into the wall, crashing to the floor.

Dean ran over to his brother. "Sammy! Sammy!" He grabbed Sam by the shoulders.

Sam's eyes stared in fear up above Dean's head at something only he could see.

"Sam, snap out of it!" Dean shouted, shaking him a little to get him to stop staring at the hallucination.

"Is he okay?" asked Jonathan.

Dean looked back at Buffy with wide, concerned eyes, terrified for his brother. _What am I gonna do?_

"NO!" Sam yelled.


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter Nineteen

**Had my 24th birthday May 13! My boss bought me Season Seven of Supernatural and Supernatual gave me the season eight finale! And what a gift that was! Totally epic!**

"Dean!" Sam shouted in fear. He suddenly yelled in pain, as though someone were torturing him. "Dean!"

"Sammy, I'm right here!" shouted Dean. "Look at me!"

"No!" Sam yelled, throwing his head back and yelling again.

"Did you do this, Jonathan?" Warren asked him.

"No," said Jonathan. "I don't know what's wrong with him."

Dean whipped his head over to them. "Shut up!" He looked up at Willow. "Is there anything you can do?"

"I-I might be able to knock him out," Willow told him. "You know, magic sleep."

"Alistair, please!" Sam begged, fighting Dean's hold. "Stop!"

"Do it," said Dean.

Willow knelt down next to Sam, placing her hands on the sides of his head and closing her eyes. "Dormi."

Sam's eyes slid closed as his head dropped to his chest. Dean made sure he was comfortable before turning towards the three nerds.

"Dude, what's his problem?" asked Warren.

"None of your business, that's what," growled Dean, standing and stepping towards them.

"Alright, boys, what are we gonna do?" said Buffy. "Can't exactly kill ya."

"And that's your undoing, Slayer," said Warren. "'Cause we won't hesitate to—"

"Buffy, is that money?" asked Willow.

Buffy and Dean followed her gaze to a hundred dollar bill on the floor in front of a trunk.

"That—that's Monopoly money," blurted Andrew.

Dean stepped over to the bill, picking it up. "Oh, yeah. Ben Franklin looks just like that Monopoly guy." He flung the trunk open to find it full of cash. He frowned over at them. "You don't have a lock on this? You don't even hide it? Really?"

"You're the ones who hired the M'Fashnik guy to rob the bank," said Buffy.

"You'll never prove it," said Warren.

"No," said Castiel, appearing behind them and causing them to jump. "But the police will."

Dean ran the bill through his fingers. "Banks track those serial numbers on bills, don't they?" He gave them a wicked smile. "And your fingerprints are all over them."

The next second, the trio and the trunk of cash vanished along with Castiel.

Dean lowered his now empty hand. "Have a fun three to five years in the slammer, boys."

Castiel appeared in the room once again.

"We should take you on all our hunts," said Dean before stepping over to Sam and kneeling in front of him. "Cas, can you help him?"

"What should I help him with?" asked Castiel.

"No, I meant heal him," said Dean.

Castiel frowned a little, avoiding Dean's eyes.

"Cas?" asked Dean.

"I can't," Castiel told him.

"You what?" said Dean.

"I have rebelled against the angels," Castiel explained. "I am cut off from heaven and much of heaven's power. Certain things I can do. Certain things I can't."

"You can't help Sam?" asked Dean with a broken look on his face.

"I'm sorry, Dean," Castiel told him.

"It's okay, Cas," Dean said. "It wasn't your fault. We'll get Sammy through this."

"Even if I wasn't cut off, I'm not sure I could heal this type of affliction," Castiel said.

Dean nodded. "Yeah…Can you just get us back to the house?"

*********************************************SPN/B TVS*********************************************** ************

Dean stood at the railing of the basement stairs, watching Sam sleep on his cot. He still had not woken up since Willow had put him out, and that was five hours ago. And Dean was starting to worry.

"How's he doing?" Buffy asked on the stairs behind him.

"Still sleeping," Dean told her, staring nervously at Sam.

"Hey, don't worry," Buffy said. "Sometimes, spells last for a while. He'll be fine."

"I'm just worried about what state he'll be in when he wakes up," said Dean. "How's Sir Flies-a-Lot."

"Praying, I think," Buffy told him. "Or he could be sleeping."

"Angels don't sleep," Dean informed her.

"Oh," said Buffy. "Ever?"

"Nope," said Dean. "Gets a little creep when he watches you sleep."

Buffy grimaced. "Yikes."

Sam moaned suddenly from the cot, turning his head on the pillow.

"I'll get him some water," said Buffy, heading back up the stairs.

"Thanks," said Dean, heading over to him. "Hey, rise 'n shine, Sammy."

Sam opened his eyes, squinting up at him. "Dean?"

Dean crouched next to the cot. "Hey, buddy, how you doing?"

Sam frowned around at the basement. "Where are we?"

"Buffy's," Dean answered.

"When'd we get here?" asked Sam. "What happened with those guys?"

"Jail," Dean replied. "Cas took 'em. You, uh…you started hallucinating."

Sam's eyes widened slightly. "Alistair…That's right. I saw him in the basement…" He suddenly looked over towards the far wall with even wider eyes.

"Sam?" asked Dean.

Sam glanced up at Dean and then back at the wall. "I take it you don't see him."

Dean followed his gaze to the wall. "Who is it?"

Sam hesitated. "Me."

Dean looked back at him. "You?"

"Well…younger me…" said Sam. He trailed off as he seemed to be listening to the hallucination.

Dean waited patiently, hoping that it would go away after some time.

"I tried," said Sam. "I did. It didn't pan out that way. Sorry, kid."

He listened for a while longer. Dean just knelt there and watched him, waiting it out.

"Look," Sam clenched his jaw. "They killed Jessica." He then gritted his teeth. "I know."

Sam frowned suddenly. "But I'm not. I was tricked, and I'm stopping it now. I'm doing the right thing for once."

Dean's heart clenched at that sentence. He hated that Sam felt he was always a failure. True, Sam had done some questionable things, but it was all in the name of good. He had thought it was the right thing.

"Sam," said Dean, putting a hand on his shoulder.

Sam looked up at him.

"It's not true," said Dean. "You were never evil. You have a good heart. It just got lost."

Sam gave a shaky smile. "But then you came and found me."

Dean smiled at him. "You bet I did."

"Geez, do you guys always dot his much bromancing?" said Buffy.

Dean cleared his throat and patted Sam on the shoulder before withdrawing his hand. "Considering how much we kick ass, I think we're allowed a little leniency on that."

Sam glanced around the basement as he sat up. "He's gone."

"Well, there you go," said Dean. "Whenever you start seeing stuff, I'm just one yell away. I'll chase 'em off."

Sam smiled gratefully as he accepted the glass of water. He tried to hold the glass steady, but his hands were shaking too much.

"Here," said Dean, taking the glass and holding it up to Sam's mouth.

Sam took a sip before pulling his head away.

"More than that," Dean told him.

Sam sighed before taking a few gulps of water.

Dean pulled the glass away and set it on the floor. "'Atta boy."

"Thanks," said Sam, swinging his legs over the side of the cot.

"Whoa, whoa, where do you think you're going?" said Dean, his hand on Sam's shoulder.

"The bathroom," Sam told him.

Dean pulled his hand away. "Oh."

Sam stood on shaky legs, wavering a little as his head spun.

Dean steadied him with a hand under his elbow. "Whoa, you good?"

Sam nodded. "Yeah…good."

"Okay," said Dean, following Sam up the stairs in case he should fall.

As Sam turned the corner and passed through the kitchen and dining room on his way upstairs, Dean found Castiel sitting stiffly at the dining room table, his eyes closed.

"I thought you liked to go all invisible when you prayed," said Dean as he sat at the table across from him. "You know, peace and quiet."

"I am no longer able to do so," said Castiel without opening his eyes.

"'Cause of being cut off from heaven?" asked Dean.

"Yes," said Castiel.

Dean frowned. "But you did it the other day, and that was after you rebelled."

Castiel final opened his eyes. "My power is slowly fading. Given enough time, it will…drain away."

"Are you saying you'll eventually become…human?" asked Dean.

Castiel nodded.

"Wow…" muttered Dean.

Castiel closed his eyes once more.

"So, who are you praying to?" asked Dean. "God?"

"I am not praying at the moment," Castiel told him. "I am listening."

"Listening?" asked Dean. "To the angels? Like Anna could?"

"Yes," said Castiel.

"What are they saying?" asked Dean curiously.

"They are searching for another way to force Sam to break the final seal," said Castiel.

"Bastards," Dean growled.

Castiel opened his eyes and looked at him, frowning.

"No offense," Dean quickly covered.

Sam stumbled into the room, making his way back towards the basement.

"Sam," said Castiel, standing.

Sam turned towards him. "Yeah?"

"I need to hide you," said Castiel, stepping over towards him.

Sam stared at him. "You need to what?"

Castiel reached a hand out and touched Sam's chest. Sam groaned and doubled over.

"Hey!" said Dean, standing.

Castiel reached over with his other hand and touched Dean's chest, causing him to also groan and double over. The pain was so deep and burning, Dean had to wonder if Castiel wasn't touching his soul.

"What the hell was that?" asked Dean.

"An Enochian sigil," said Castiel. "It'll hide you from every angel in creation."

"What, did you just brand us with it?" asked Dean.

"No," stated Castiel. "I carved it into your ribs."

Dean stared at him. "Oh. And you didn't do this earlier because…"

"My efforts to shield you from the angels may cease soon with my powers draining," Castiel explained. "Now, you will be protected no matter what happens to me."

"Okay," said Sam, rubbing at his sore chest. "Thanks…I guess." He turned and headed back downstairs to hopefully sleep off most of the detox.

Dean watched him go, starting to take a step towards him to help him down the stairs, but he stopped, not wanting to encroach on him. He listened carefully to Sam's footfalls on the stairs, flinching when he heard him stumble a little. When Sam didn't yell out, Dean relaxed as the echo of boots on wood ceased.

"You remind me of Michael," said Castiel.

Dean turned towards Castiel with a frown. "Who?"

"My brother," said Castiel.

"The archangel Michael?" asked Dean.

Castiel nodded. "He is one of the eldest angels. He looks after all of us…keeps us safe. When one of my brothers or sisters has been injured, he looks so worried as he tends to them." He gazed down at the floor, lost in his memories.

"You miss them, don't you?" said Dean. "Your family?"

"Yes," said Castiel. "Very much."

Dean hesitated before awkwardly reaching out and putting a hand on Castiel's shoulder. "It'll be okay. As soon as we get this Lillith-Ruby-Lucifer mess taken care of, your family will get their act back together."

Castiel smiled as he reached his hand across his chest, resting it atop Dean's hand. "Thank you, Dean."

Dean stared at Castiel's hand on top of his. "Uh…yeah…No problem…"

Castiel took his hand back, and Dean quickly pulled his own back. Dean sometimes hated how Castiel just did not have a clue. It was a little annoying how he seemed to have no boundaries, but then again, how could you really get mad at the guy? He was just so naïve that way.

"So, uh…you heard any seal chatter on angel radio?" Dean quickly changed the subject.

Castiel nodded.

"How many are left?" asked Dean.

"Ten," said Castiel.

"Ten?" asked Dean in alarm.

"They are falling faster," said Castiel. "I do not believe we have much longer."

"Well, can you track down Ruby?" asked Dean. "She's trying to find a way to kill Lillith."

"Of course," said Castiel.

"But—" said Dean quickly before he could disappear, "just find her. Sam and I wanna take her out."

Castiel nodded and vanished.

************************************************** ****SPN/BTVS************************************** ***********************

Dean rinsed off the last dish, putting it on the dish drainer next to the sink. Dinner had been eventful. Buffy had ordered pizza, which everyone had sat down to, including Sam. But the withdrawal was taking its toll on Sam, and he hadn't finished the first slice before bolting towards the upstairs bathroom to throw it all up. He had since retreated back to his basement cot to sleep some more.

Bobby had called during dinner to give updates and get them back. His hunts seemed to be going okay. Then again, everything seemed a piece of cake compared to the seals and the apocalypse. Castiel still had not returned from searching for Ruby, so she must **really** be hiding. Everyone had headed to sleep a few minutes ago, leaving Dean with the dishes.

Dean grabbed a towel to dry his hands off, leaning against the kitchen island.

"Dean!"

Dean jolted away from the counter, dropping the towel and darting for the door to the basement. Jumping down the stairs two or three at a time, he found Sam sitting bolt upright on the cot, staring up at the air next to him.

Dean hurried to the cot, crouching in front of him and putting a hand on his shoulder. "Sammy, what is it? What do ya see?"

Sam stared up at the hallucination with wide, shocked eyes. "It's Mom."


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter Twenty

**THEN**

_Dean hurried to the cot, crouching in front of him and putting a hand on his shoulder. "Sammy, what is it? What do ya see?"_

_Sam stared up at the hallucination with wide, shocked eyes. "It's Mom."_

**NOW**

"Mom?" asked Dean in shock.

Sam nodded, too stunned to say anything else.

"What's she saying?" asked Dean.

Sam paused for a moment to listen. "She's telling me to go back out there and finish the job, that Cas is lying."

Dean stared at him. "Okay, you know that's the demon blood talking, right?"

Sam nodded. "I know."

Dean waited for a while as Sam listened to the hallucination. Even though it wasn't real, it was still their mother. Dean knew Sam would want any part of her that he could get.

"What's she saying?" asked Dean.

Sam looked up at him with a dejected look. "She's telling me to sacrifice myself…to make her death mean something."

Dean knelt next to the cot, staring up at Sam. "Sammy, whatever…" he hesitated, unable to bring himself to call this demon blood hallucination "her," "it…is telling you, it's not true. The demon blood is just trying to get you to give in. Just ignore it. Don't listen to it."

Sam began to smile a little at him before his gaze flew up behind Dean, and his eyes widened. "No!" He pushed himself off the cot, in an apparent attempt to protect his brother from something.

Dean watched in shock as Sam was suddenly thrown across the room, hitting the wall of the basement and hanging there with his feet off the floor. At first, Dean began to look for an attacker until he saw Sam's face begin to redden as his eyes rolled in their sockets.

_The demon blood… _he realized. _Detox victims will seize uncontrollably, but for a demon blood-psychic detox…_

As Dean crouched next to the cot in frozen panic, Sam suddenly spun along the wall, knocking shelves and tables to the floor. Dean jumped to his feet as Sam slammed to a stop in front of the stairs, bringing his arms up to fight off whatever he was seeing.

Dean rushed over to Sam, grabbing hold of Sam's arms. "Buffy!"

Just as he pried Sam off of the wall, an invisible force pushed Dean, sending him flying across the room. Dean landed on the stairs and fell down them, landing on the floor. He raised his head to see Sam near him on the floor, convulsing.

_Sammy…_

Footsteps thundered down the stairs.

"Dean, what…Oh, my God…" breathed Buffy.

Dean watched in horror as Sam was suddenly lifted from the floor, spinning around before being pinned to the ceiling.

"Sam!" Dean shouted, springing to his feet.

Sam lay pinned to the ceiling with a look of terror on his face. He appeared to be silently screaming, as though he were in pain.

_The fire…_ thought Dean. _He's hallucinating dying like Mom and Jessica._

"Help me!" Dean yelled, jumping as high as he could and grabbing hold of Sam's arm.

Buffy followed suit, and together they managed to pry Sam off of the ceiling. They pushed Sam to the floor as he seized, pinning his arms to his chest.

"We gotta tie him down for his own safety," said Dean. "Where are the cuffs?"

"Under the stairs," said Buffy.

"Alright, let's get him to the cot before he has another fit," said Dean, lifting Sam by the arms as Buffy grabbed his legs.

Dean moved carefully, keeping Sam's head as safe as possible as he continued to convulse. They eased Sam down on the cot, and Dean held Sam's torso down as he seized, blood running out of the corner of his mouth and eyes rolled up in his head.

_Aw, Sammy…Hang in there, bro._

********************************************SPN/BT VS************************************************ *******************

Dean sat on the living room couch, head in his hands.

"You okay?" asked Buffy.

"Can I answer that _after_ Lucifer kills us all?" mumbled Dean.

There was silence, so Dean lifted his head to see Buffy watching him sadly from the archway into the foyer.

"Cas says there's less than ten seals left," Dean told her. "There may be only five by now. It's all ending so fast…I don't know how to stop it."

"Well, from what I hear, the Winchesters are pretty much kings of the impossible," said Buffy. "However it's supposed to be fixed, you'll figure it out. I mean, you got Castiel looking for Ruby. If anybody can find a demon, it's an angel."

The lights all over the house flickered, and they looked around at the lamps and fixtures as they blinked. The trees in front of the window fluttered in the growing breeze as Dean slowly rose to his feet.

"Oh, crap…" Dean muttered.

"Ghost or demon?" asked Buffy, tensing for the fight.

The house began to shake a little as the front window blew in, black smoke flying in as Dean dove out of the way and rolled to a crouch next to Buffy.

"Demon," said Dean, jumping up and rushing to the other side of the room.

The demon smoke spun around the room as they waited for it to materialize. After it flew around the room for a moment, it suddenly soared back out the broken window.

"Uh…" said Buffy, shrugging, "we win?"

"No, no, this isn't right…" Dean mumbled.

"It's not?" asked Buffy.

"I have never known a demon to back off a fight," said Dean, his face growing suspicious. "Something's wrong."

"Well…what?" said Buffy. "It was distracting us?"

Dean's eyes widened in alarm. "Sam." He bolted for the basement door, tearing down the stairs to find a woman standing over his unconscious brother with a bleeding hand. "Hey!"

The demon glared up at him with black eyes, giving a wicked smile as she covered Sam's mouth with her hand. Dean charged her, yanking her away from the cot. As Dean threw her towards the stairs, Buffy hurried over to Sam, wiping the demon blood off of his mouth. Dean laid into the demon, but she hit back, getting the upper hand.

Buffy quickly joined in, beating the demon back. As Buffy kicked her, Dean pulled the demon knife out of his jacket, rushing towards her. The demon waved her hand, sending Dean flying across the room as he dropped the knife. He landed next to the cot and got to his feet, turning to see the demon on the floor. Buffy was standing over it faced away from Dean.

"You killed her?" said Dean. "Nice work, Buff—"

Buffy shuddered, hunching over a little. Dean frowned as he sensed something wrong about her.

"Buffy?" asked Dean.

Buffy turned a little, wrapping her arms around her middle. She was grimacing in pain as she faced him. Dean tensed a little as Buffy groaned and fell to her knees.

"Buffy, what's wrong?" asked Dean.

Buffy's eyes flew open, pitch black. "Dean…"

Dean began to rush towards her to fight the demon until Buffy yelled in pain. When she looked back up at Dean, her eyes were clear.

"Dean…the knife…" Buffy groaned, holding her hand out.

Dean eyed the demon knife on the floor between them, trying to figure out if he could trust her. Something was different…

Buffy moaned in pain as her eyes flashed from black to normal over and over. "Hurry!"

Dean grabbed the knife, wondering if he was signing his own death sentence, and tossed it to Buffy. Buffy caught the knife, grimacing in pain once more before finally opening her mouth and letting out a scream. As she screamed, the black smoke flew out of her mouth, flying back into the girl on the floor. The second the smoke was in the girl, Buffy raised the knife and plunged it into her. As the demon died, Buffy collapsed back onto the floor, breathing heavily.

Dean stared at the dead demon. "Well, that was new."

Buffy frowned up at him. "I thought possessing demons were supposed to…you know, possess."

"They do," said Dean. "I don't know what the hell just happened. It was like it was—"

"Struggling," finished Buffy. "I could feel her trying to take her over, but the more I fought, the harder time she had doing it. Has that ever happened before?"

"I've seen people fight back sometimes for, like, a second, but I've never seen someone push a demon out of their own body," said Dean. "Maybe because you're the Slayer, it gives you more strength to fight."

"Maybe," said Buffy. "I'll ask Giles about it later. Is Sam okay?"

Dean glanced back at him; he was still unconscious. "For now."

********************************************SPN/BT VS************************************************ **************

Sam groggily opened his eyes, looking up at the blurry, spinning ceiling. He lifted his hands—or, tried to—to find them cuffed to the cot, his feet similarly cuffed. The last thing he remembered was his mother standing over Dean and charging at him in rage as he convinced Sam to ignore the hallucination. Sam had jumped up to stop her, even though she wasn't really there, and then incredible pain had burst through him as the convulsions hit.

Sam wished Dean had never been down there for that. He had never wanted Dean to see the thing he had turned into. He knew Dean was accepting him—or, at least, trying to—but he couldn't help this feeling in the back of his mind that there was something wrong with him. For all of Ruby's talk of how they were going to save the world, Sam was finding it harder and harder to hang on to that noble cause. Part of him was really starting to wonder if he had drunk that blood just for the heck of it.

The door to the basement opened, and Sam craned his head to look up at Dean heading down the stairs. Dean leaned against the railing when he got to the bottom, watching him.

"You okay?" asked Dean.

Sam shrugged a little, his hands catching on the cuffs.

"We had to," said Dean. "The demon blood was flinging you all over the room."

_And I thought the aches were the withdrawal,_ thought Sam, pulling himself up to sit on the cot.

"Tell me something, Sam," said Dean. "Why did you do this to yourself?"

Sam narrowed his eyes at Dean, confused. After all, he had come clean to him at the beginning six months ago. Dean was completely in the know.

"You know why," said Sam.

"Right," nodded Dean. "Kill Lillith. The big excuse."

Sam's frown deepened, totally confused by Dean's behavior. If Sam didn't know any better, he would say Dean was pissed. But Dean had been understanding this whole time, trying to see things Sam's way.

"But why?" asked Dean. "What, revenge?"

"Of course," Sam told him.

"Revenge for what?" said Dean. "For sending me to hell? Did you happen to notice I'm back? Alive and kicking! So, what's the point?"

"The point?" muttered Sam. "I thought I was stopping the damn apocalypse."

"My gig!" said Dean. "Not yours! The angels said so, remember? God picked me, man. He even gave me these Slayer powers to do it. So, you got any other fantastic excuses? Hmm?"

Sam shook his head, not comprehending why Dean was talking to him like he was still out there doing it. "Excuses? Dean, I stopped. We found out the real deal, and I stopped."

"Stopped what?" said Dean, narrowing his eyes at him. "Drinking _demon blood_?" He shook his head frustratingly, turning a hand down his face. "You know, it's like I'm still stuck in hell. My baby brother willingly allowed a demon to feed him its blood." He chuckled bitterly. "That's like my worst nightmare." His narrowed eyes quickly grew into a glare. "And you just let it happen."

"Dean, we've already talked about this," said Sam. "I was just—"

"Of course, I get it," said Dean, pushing away from the stairs and slowly pacing towards the cot. "I understand. I know why you really drink that blood, Sam."

"Just…just leave me alone," Sam pleaded, not wanting to argue about it anymore if Dean was gonna be so stubborn. And, honestly, Dean's words were starting to stab him right in the heart, and he didn't know how much more he could listen to.

"Makes you feel strong…invincible," said Dean. "Big bad wolf in a world of little pigs."

"No, you're wrong, Dean," said Sam, staring down at his legs.

"It's more than that, isn't it?" said Dean. "It's because your whole life, you've felt different, am I right?"

_Okay, now, that was going too far,_ Sam thought.

He didn't understand why Dean was all of a sudden laying into him about this. He had been nothing but supportive this whole time. Maybe he just finally couldn't take it anymore. He had seen in the last few days what Sam had really done to himself, and was finally punishing him for it. Whatever the reason, that last comment had stung.

"Stop," Sam forced out past clenched teeth.

Dean stopped his pacing in the middle of the room. "Hit a little close to home, huh? Not different 'cause you were some lonely kid or because of your weirdo family."

"Stop it," Sam begged, not liking where Dean's implications were heading.

_He wouldn't say it, would he? _he thought.

No matter what Sam did, Dean would never resort to calling him a monster.

Dean leaned over next to him, glaring at him as though knowing what he was thinking. "Because you're a monster."

There it was: the one word Sam had thought Dean would never call him.

"Shut up!" snapped Sam. "Just shut the hell up!"

"You were always a monster," Dean interrupted him. "And you only feel right when you're sucking down more poison and more evil!"

"No, Dean, that's not true," Sam told him, but he had to wonder…who was he really trying to convince?

"Monster, Sam!" Dean repeated. "You're a monster!"

"Dean, no," Sam pleaded, tears forming in his eyes.

"And I tried so hard to pretend we were brothers," said Dean.

He leaned forward into Sam's face, the amulet hanging from his neck that Sam had given him all those years ago mocking the whole scene.

"That you weren't one of the filthy things that we hunt," growled Dean. "We aren't even the same species. You're nothing to me!"

"Sam?"

Sam's gaze snapped up to the stairs, where another Dean was standing there, staring at him with a concerned look. "Dean?"

The Dean by the cot frowned, drawing Sam's gaze. "You're seeing another hallucination, aren't you? Brought on by all that demon blood pumping through your veins."

The other Dean came the rest of the way down the stairs, watching him closely. "You okay?"

Sam glanced from one Dean to the other, trying to figure out what was going on. Was one of them real, or were they both in his head?

"Dean…" stuttered Sam, breathing faster, "I…I can't…"

"He isn't real, Sam," the Dean next to the cot told him like he was an idiot. "I am."

Sam frowned up at him and his angry glare.

"Another hallucination?" asked the Dean by the stairs, stepping towards him.

Sam jolted away from the two of them, cuffs pulling on the frame of the cot. The Dean by the stairs stopped, holding his hands up in front of him to placate Sam as the Dean by the cot smirked.

"Whoa, whoa, okay," said the Dean in the middle of the room. "It's okay. Sammy, talk to me, man. You're scaring me."

"Let me guess," said the Dean by the cot. "He's being all sensitive and concerned." He tilted his head at Sam. "Does that really sound like me?"

Sam looked back at that Dean. He did have a point. Dean was never one for the sharing and caring. Did that mean this Dean was the real one?

"Look, Sam, whoever it is, whatever it's saying, it's not real," the Dean in the middle of the room told him.

"Can't you see this is a hallucination brought on by your desire to have me not hate you?" the Dean by the cot practically shouted at him.

There it was again: proof of Dean's hatred towards him. Nothing else could make him say these things. Of course, Sam shouldn't really be surprised. It was really him that had brought this all on. His behavior had pushed Dean away.

Sam looked up at the Dean at the cot, tears welling up and falling down his face. "Dean, no…"

"Sam, it's lying!" said the other Dean after a moment.

Sam glanced over at him to see a wide-eyed look of alarm on his face.

"That's not me!" he said. "I'm your real brother!"

"I mean, think about it, Sam," said the Dean by the cot. "Have you ever known me to let something so stupid and reckless as what you've been doing the last six months just slide?"

Sam looked back over at him, conceding that it was true. Dean never let him get away with anything.

The Dean in the middle of the room suddenly closed the gap and grabbed hold of his arms. "Sam, that is not me! The Dean you've been with the past six months is me! The one acting the opposite of that is the hallucination!"

Sam looked back over at the Dean at the foot of the cot, trying to figure it all out. It was true; Dean's behavior had suddenly flipped and wasn't tracking with the way he's been since he got back from hell at all. Then again, the craziness and stress of the past few days with Sam was enough to make anyone see things in a whole new light.

"No, I don't, I—" Sam looked back and forth between the two Deans. "I can't know that for sure."

The Dean at the cot shook his head in frustration.

"Sam…"

Sam looked back at the Dean who had hold of him. His face had shifted in realization, sad and worried.

"I could never hate you," Dean told him. "I sold my soul for you! You could be the devil himself and I would still love you."

Hope beginning to stir slightly, Sam's gaze fell down to the amulet hanging from his neck. The token of familial bond roused something in Sam's memory, and he quickly looked over at the Dean by the end of the cot. Sometime during the heated discussion, the amulet had vanished from his neck.

_I'm the real Dean, Sam…_

"Believe in that!" said Dean, gripping Sam's arms tighter. "You gotta believe me."

Sam looked back at him, all the dread and anxiety that had built up in the last few minutes vanishing. "Dean…"

Dean let out a relieved sigh, the tension disappearing from his face. "Oh, thank God. You okay, Sammy?"

"Oh, yeah, sure," said the hallucination. "He loves you now. Just wait till the apocalypse starts. You were the one that helped Ruby get closer to killing Lillith. He is gonna hate you."

Sam looked up at the Dean hallucination, giving it a hard glare. "No. He won't."

The hallucination glared at him before he was suddenly gone. Sam looked around the room for him before gazing back at Dean.

"It's gone," Sam told him.

Dean smiled at him. "See? Big brother's always watching over you."

Sam stared blankly at him for a moment. "That sounded a lot creepier than you meant it."

"Yeah, I just realized that," frowned Dean.

At the head of the stairs, Buffy turned back towards the living room with a shake of her head. "Men."


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter Twenty-One

**Oh, man, this chapter took a long time to get to.**

"Dean…"

Dean rolled his head from side to side as he hung in that strange limbo of semi-consciousness.

"Dean."

Dean startled awake on the cot. "Wha…" He looked over at the cot next to him. "What is it?"

Sam lay on the cot, eyes closed and jaw clenched as he breathed slowly.

"What's wrong?" Dean asked, sitting up and turning towards him.

"I think I'm gonna be sick," Sam forced out, face flushed as he grimaced.

Dean made a grab for the trash can on the floor, holding it up next to the mattress and placing his hand on Sam's shoulder. With no time to undo the cuffs, he helped Sam roll onto his side, his left hand straining in the cuff. Sam immediately retched into the waste basket, wincing in discomfort. Dean rubbed his hand on Sam's shoulder as he waited out the waves of vomiting. During Sam's third round, Dean was shocked to see blood mixed in with the bile.

_Oh, God…_ Dean thought. _What is this doing to him?_

It took another two bouts of sickness—the last of which was mostly blood—before Sam finally fell back onto the mattress.

"Oh, man…" Sam muttered, panting, pale and sweaty.

"You okay?" Dean asked with worry, putting the can back on the floor.

Sam nodded, keeping his eyes closed and starting to tremble slightly.

"Sammy, come on, talk to me, dude," Dean said urgently.

Sam opened his eyes and looked blearily up at him, frowning. "You don't sound good. What is it?"

Dean hesitated before giving a head gesture at the waste basket. "You were puking up blood."

Instead of the shocked look Dean was expecting, Sam just stared at him.

"That explains it, then," Sam mused.

"What?" asked Dean.

"I didn't really feel anything before, but now that it's gone, I feel…like a burden has been lifted," Sam told him.

Dean frowned in confusion before Sam's words clicked. He glanced down at the bucket full of dark blood. "Demon blood…"

Sam nodded. "It's not all of it, but…I'm back where I started before Ruby." He looked up at Dean with miserable eyes. "Please tell me it's over."

Dean ran a hand through Sam's hair, pushing his sweaty bangs off his forehead. "It's over, Sammy." He pulled the key out of his pocket and undoing the cuffs. "It's over."

Sam closed his eyes in relief, sighing. "Thanks."

"Hey, you're my brother," Dean told him. "It's our sibling duty to take care of each other when we're sick."

Sam huffed out a chuckle as he looked up at Dean. "This falls a little further than sick, Dean."

Dean shrugged. "Well, whatever."

"So, how's everything going?" asked Sam.

Dean stared down at the floor, hesitating as he looked at Sam. "Maybe you should wait until you feel better, you know?"

"Dean, I'm gonna go crazy if I'm stuck down here much longer," Sam told him. "I'm not asking to go out and hunt. I'm just asking for news."

Dean watched him for a moment, hesitating. Sam's imploring eyes stared into his, begging him to trust him.

Dean took a deep breath. "Cass has been keeping track of the seal countdown with his angel radio thing."

"Where we at?" Sam asked.

"Ten," Dean answered.

Sam's eyes widened. "When was this?"

"About three days ago. I sent him to find Ruby."

"Anything?"

Dean shook his head. "No."

Sam closed his eyes, sighing in frustration.

"Don't worry, we'll find her," Dean told him. "We got Heaven's most awesome angel on our side."

Sam chuckled as he closed his eyes once more to sleep the fatigue off.

****************************************SPN/BTVS** ************************************************** **************

"How's Sam doing?" asked Willow as she, Tara and Xander headed into the living room where Dawn and Buffy sat, talking.

"Oh, you know," Buffy told them. "Withdrawal can't be fun. But Dean says he's slowly getting better. He even managed to keep his lunch down today."

"Maybe I could help," said Willow. "I know this healing spell. I mean, it's doesn't regenerate cells and tissue; it more speeds the immune response to start—"

"No," said Tara forcefully.

Willow frowned over at her.

"Dean probably wants nothing supernatural to be around Sam until he's better," Tara suggested.

"O-okay," said Willow, still frowning at Tara.

"What about that Cass guy?" asked Xander. "Haven't seen him in a while."

"He's out searching for Ruby," said Buffy. "Before she, you know, unleashes hell on earth."

"I could do a locator spell for him," said Willow.

Tara sighed and headed out of the room.

"Or not," said Willow, frowning again.

"Is she okay?" asked Dawn, worry on her face.

"I'm sure she's just tired," Willow replied.

"It's a good call on the locator spell," said Buffy. "Castiel can probably find her on his own."

"Okay," said Willow. "I'm gonna go search the web for anything weird to go after." She headed towards the foyer and up the stairs.

Buffy stood and went after Tara, finding her in the backyard, sitting on the garden bench. "Everything okay?"

Tara nodded, staring off into the distance.

"You sure?" asked Buffy, sitting next to her.

Tara didn't respond for a while, and Buffy let her take a moment.

"It's just…" began Tara, "Willow's using too much magic lately."

Buffy frowned. "She is?"

Tara nodded. "When you told us you were in Heaven…Willow wanted to do a memory spell. She didn't even wait till the next morning when you talked to us and told us you were okay with it. She just wanted to erase your memories of Heaven."

Buffy hesitated. "It's probably guilt. She didn't want me to live with this burden she had created."

"It's not just that," Tara told her. "I've noticed other things. She won't look at the options. Her first course of action is magic to fix everything." She took a deep breath. "And she did a spell on me…When I confronted her about this, she made me forget the fight. I just don't understand how she could do that after what Glory did to me."

Buffy wrapped her arm around Tara.

"We're kind of distant right now," said Tara. "Willow insists she's only helping, but she doesn't see how it's doing more harm than good."

"You guys'll work it out," Buffy assured her. "If it takes another supernatural detox, we'll get Willow through this."

"Buffy."

Buffy and Tara looked up to see Xander on the back patio.

"You might wanna hear this," Xander told her with a somber expression.

*********************************************SPN/B TVS*********************************************** ************

"Wait, just one seal?" asked Dean.

"Yes," said Castiel.

"You have any idea what the last one is?" asked Dean.

"Last one what?" asked Buffy as she walked into the kitchen from the backyard with Tara.

"Seal," said Dean. "Last man standing."

"Already?" asked Buffy.

"Well, it has been almost a year since this whole thing started," said Dean. "So, Cass, the last seal?"

"My brethren are not speaking of it," Castiel told him.

"But you did find Ruby," Dean stated.

"Yes," said Castiel. "St. Mary's Convent, Ilchester, Maryland."

"What's she doing in a convent?" asked Sam.

Dean turned to see him standing in the basement doorway, hanging onto the frame to brace himself.

"Hey," said Dean, stepping over and placing a hand on Sam's shoulder, lest he fall backwards down the stairs. After all, he still looked a little pale and shaky. "Look at you. You can walk."

Sam chuckled. "It's a miracle." He looked at Castiel. "You know why Ruby's at the convent?"

"No," Castiel told him.

"Well, you sure are Mr. Chatty tonight," Dean told Castiel.

"You think she's working on breaking the final seal?" asked Buffy.

"Probably," said Dean. "She'd want to get this done as fast as possible, knowing we'd be after her, which means we should get going as soon as we can here."

Sam looked down at the floor, knowing Dean and Buffy would now be gearing up to go after Ruby. He knew Dean would never consider putting his life in jeopardy while he was at half-strength right now.

"So, what do ya say?" said Dean. "Wanna come with?"

Sam glanced up to see Dean watching him expectantly. "What?"

"Ruby hunt," Dean reiterated. "You wanna go?"

Sam stared at Dean in disbelief. "You're actually asking me to tag along with you…on a hunt…when I'm still recovering from the detox?"

"What?" Dean shrugged. "The worst is behind you, and you can only get better by the second, right?"

Sam just stared at him in astonishment.

"But if you don't wanna go, I'm okay with—" began Dean.

"No, no, I-I wanna come," Sam interrupted him.

Dean smirked. "That's what I thought."

"We're coming with," Buffy spoke up, starting to head for the living room and her weapons.

"No," Dean told her.

Buffy spun back to face him. "What? Why?"

"If Ruby is somehow prepared for us and we don't make it out of there, we need someone who knows the real score to hold the line," Dean told her. "Think you can do that?"

Buffy thought for a moment before nodding. "That's actually a good idea. You guys go kill the wicked witch, and we'll be gunning up for the army of flying monkeys."

Dean chuckled. "Sounds good." He slapped his hand on Sam's shoulder. "Come on, Sammy. We've got work to do."

********************************************SPN/BT VS************************************************ ********

Willow left her bedroom to head down the stairs and see what everyone else was up to. Sam and Dean had left with Castiel two hours ago, and now, they were all waiting for any word on what would happen. The house was full of nervous energy as everyone waited for victory or Hell on Earth.

Willow reached the foyer and rounded the corner to find Buffy, Tara, Xander, Giles and Bobby all sitting at the dining room table, all staring at her.

"What's going on, guys?" Willow asked slowly.

"We need to talk, Will," Xander told her, gesturing to the empty chair at the end of the table.

Willow frowned, but took a seat, waiting for them to start.

Buffy looked her in the eye. "I talked to Tara."

Willow frowned further.

"She told me about how you've been using too much magic," Buffy went on.

Willow's frown shifted into a look of realization while keeping some confusion in it. Her gaze shifted to Tara. "But I'm helping people."

"There's a difference between helping people and taking the easy way out," Tara told her gently.

_They're pulling an intervention on me?_ Willow thought.

"Willow, there's nothing wrong with magic when things are so far beyond any normal means of help," Giles told her. "But when you use magic to do things you could just as easily do yourself, that's taking it too far."

"How?" asked Willow. "How is that taking it too far?"

"Because you aren't controlling the magicks anymore," Bobby told her. "They're controlling you."

Willow shook her head. "That doesn't make any sense. It's not like I'm possessed or something. I'm the one using the magic. And I'm using it to make things better. Doing things the hard way causes hurt, or pain, even."

"That's life, Willow," Tara told her. "The struggles are the whole point. That's how you learn and grow as a person."

"Learn?" said Willow. "Learn what? That life sucks? That's not how you learn. That's how you get hurt." She stood from the table and hurried back up the stairs.

"Willow," Tara called, standing. "Willow!"

Giles gently grabbed her arm as she headed for the stairs. "Let her dwell on it."

Tara sighed as she stared into the foyer where Willow had disappeared. "I hope Dean and Sam are having better luck than we are."

***********************************************SPN /BTVS********************************************* **

Dean gazed around the corner in the hallway of the convent, peering down the adjacent hallway to a chapel at the end of it. Ruby was kneeling in front of an altar, presumably performing some kind of spell.

Dean eased back around the corner, where Sam and Castiel stood a little ways away, and spoke in a whisper. "We all good on the plan?"

Sam and Castiel nodded as Dean handed Ruby's knife to Sam.

"Alright, we go on my signal, then," said Dean.

Castiel nodded and disappeared as Sam stepped over right next to Dean.

"Sam," said Dean, grabbing hold of the hand holding the knife.

Sam looked at him.

"Don't miss," Dean told him.

Sam nodded and braced himself against the wall.

Dean took a breath and stepped around the corner into the hallway. "Hey, bitch!"

Ruby slowly stood and turned towards him.

"Remember me?" smirked Dean.

Ruby slowly smiled at him. "Well, bring it on, short-bus."

Dean charged down the hallway, bursting through the open doors and into the chapel. He swung a right fist straight at Ruby's face, which she ducked. While his arm was still extended, he brought his elbow back into the side of Ruby's head. He brought his right leg up as he leaned back to give himself enough room to kick her in the gut. She fell back a little, waving her arm and sending Dean falling back onto the floor. As Ruby charged towards him with a yell, Dean curled his lower body in towards his head and kicked his legs up and out, sending him into the air as he landed back on his feet and surged out of the way of Ruby's charge.

_Oh, that was sweet!_ Dean thought, wondering when he had learned that kick thing to get off the floor.

Dean faced Ruby as she caught him in the stomach with her knee. Dean head-butted her, and she stumbled backwards towards the doorway, her back facing the hallway.

_Perfect, _Dean thought. _Any minute now, Sam._

Dean kept aiming kicks and punches at Ruby, keeping her facing him and the altar instead of the hallway. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Sam holding the knife at the ready behind the chapel doorframe. Dean punched Ruby with all his might, sending her spinning away from him. Before she could see Sam, Dean wrapped his arms around her, pinning hers to her sides.

"Now, Sam!" Dean yelled.

Ruby tensed in Dean's arms as she spotted Sam, and she threw her head back, pouring out of the host in her black smoke cloud. The next second, Castiel was there, his hand on the demon smoke. He shoved it back down into her mouth as Sam rushed towards her, raising the knife.

"No!" Ruby yelled into Castiel's hand.

Sam plunged the knife into Ruby's chest. Ruby jolted in Dean's hold as she lit up around the knife. She convulsed several times before collapsing in Dean's arms, and he dropped her to the floor. Castiel stepped back towards the entryway as Dean and Sam stared down at Ruby's dead body.

"Well, that's it," said Dean. "She's dead…"

"Now, why would you think that, boys?"

Dean and Sam spun around to see Lillith, in her blonde, adult host, standing in front of the doorway. She pressed a bloody hand to one of the open doors, where a symbol was painted in blood. A bright flash of light filled the room, and when it was gone, so was Castiel.

"Cass!" Dean yelled.

"That is just a meat-suit, after all," said Lillith with a wicked smirk.

Dean frowned, too stunned to move. There was something different about Lillith. The way she was acting…

"Although, I sure am gonna miss that one," Lillith said, smiling fondly down at Ruby's dead host. "She was fun."

Dean's eyes widened as he caught onto the whole thing. Lillith's attitude, the things she was saying, the way she was acting; this wasn't Lillith…It was Ruby.

Ruby smiled up at Sam. "Hiya, Sam."

Dean's gaze flew over to Sam, who shared his wide-eyed look, and they both looked down at Ruby's host body. Blood was trickling out of her mouth in a gush, slithering along the floor as it started to form into a circle.

_Oh, my God…_ Dean realized. _That wasn't Ruby…We killed Lillith…_

Sam looked back at Ruby with slack jaw and terrified eyes. "You…You…"

"Yep," smiled Ruby. "We tricked you." Laughter burst out of her, her face full of glee.

Dean glared at her, hating her now more than ever.

Ruby's laughter trailed off. "Oh, come on. You had to know I was gonna be one step behind you. Of course you would come chasing right after me." She shook her head at them. "You Winchesters and your revenge. You're so predictable. All it took was a little skin swapping, a couple acting tips, and we had you. And now he's free at last." Her smile grew as her face lit up. "He's free at last!"

"Oh, you bitch," Dean growled at her.

"Well, it's not like you gave us much choice," said Ruby. "You had my knife and the Colt was in the wind, thanks to you two chuckleheads. And you wanna know the best part? It was all my idea…again." She seemed to swell with pride as her gaze locked on Sam. "Only this time, your annoying brother Dean wasn't there to screw it all up. In fact, he even helped. Come on, Sam, even you have to admit, I'm…I'm awesome!"

Dean bolted while her attention was on Sam, pulling the knife from Lillith's body and turning to charge towards Ruby.

"Don't even think about it, Dean," Ruby warned him. "I'd kill you and Sam before you even flinched."

Dean stared her down until he felt that familiar sixth sense that told him Castiel was on his way. Dean smirked at Ruby and raised the knife, feeling Sam charge as he did also. Ruby raised her hand, but froze in shock as some great force bound her powers. Sam grabbed hold of Ruby's arms as Dean shoved the knife into her gut. Ruby gasped as light glowed in her chest and face. Dean pulled the knife out as Sam threw her to the floor.

Dean looked over at Castiel, who stood at the doorway, lowering his hand. Dean looked back at Sam, who grimaced in anguish.

"I'm sorry," Sam told him.

Dean shook his head. "Not your fault, Sammy."

The room shook as light burst through it. Dean and Sam looked over at the middle of the room, where the circle of Lillith's blood had connected in the middle, light flooding out of it was the portal grew.

Dean grabbed at Sam's arm as he stared at the growing light circle. "Sammy, let's go."

"Dean," said Sam urgently, grabbing at Dean's arm also.

Dean looked at Sam, who was staring in fear at the cage door as it opened.

"He's coming…" Sam gasped.

**Oh, yeah. I went there.**


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter Twenty-Two

Buffy paced back and forth in the living room, glancing nervously at the clock on the wall once again. The Winchesters and Castiel had been gone for an hour and a half now. She hadn't expected them to be gone this long. They had a teleporting angel, for crying out loud. They should have zapped there, killed Ruby and zapped back again, taking a half hour at most.

"They still not back yet?" asked Xander.

Buffy stopped her pacing and looked over at him in the foyer with all the others, shaking her head sadly.

"Does that mean they're…" began Dawn, unable to voice it.

"Maybe they're out celebrating," Anya suggested with an optimistic smile.

Everyone else stared at her.

"Or not…" Anya muttered.

"They're not answering their phones either," Buffy told them, lifting up her cell.

"It doesn't mean they're dead," said Tara. "Maybe they had to plan out the battle and they're still taking care of her."

"Yeah…" said Bobby. "I'm sure they're okay."

Dean and Sam suddenly appeared in the middle of the room, Castiel in between them with a hand on each shoulder. Dean and Sam breathed heavily as their eyes flew around the room, looking beyond spooked. But it was Castiel's face that drew Buffy's attention. The usually apathetic face was full of alarm and despair as he lowered his hands from the Winchesters' shoulders.

"Mostly…" said Bobby.

"You guys don't look so good," Buffy commented.

Dean and Sam exchanged identical looks of horror.

"I mean, we did win, right?" said Buffy. "Ruby's dead?"

Dean and Sam looked away from each other at the same moment.

"Oh, she's dead alright," muttered Dean as he stared at the floor.

Buffy's heart started beating again after the terror that froze it vanished. "Good." She breathed out a sigh of relief. "That's great."

"But so is Lillith," Dean interrupted her.

Buffy's heart froze once again in her chest, staring at Dean before looking over and seeing the worst expression of guilt on Sam's face. _Lillith's dead. But she's the final seal, which means…_

"What?" said Giles.

"They tricked us," Dean spat out in anger, "swapped bodies. After we thought we killed Ruby, the real Ruby showed up and told us we'd just killed Lillith." He sighed, still staring at the floor as he seemed to replay the whole thing in his head. "Then all hell broke loose…" he huffed out a bitter chuckle, "literally."

No one spoke for the longest time as the terror of their situation settled down on them all.

The apocalypse had started…

Demons were in full celebration…

Lucifer was free to roam the Earth…

Heaven was preparing for World War 3, angel style…

"Lucifer's really free?" asked Willow.

Dean nodded, still staring at the floor in thought.

"So, what do we do now?" asked Tara timidly.

Buffy's eyes slid over to Dean as he looked up at her, his gaze meeting her own and matching the downright stubborn fortitude on her face.

"What we always do," Dean said, a battle-ready smile showing up on his face as he looked over at Sam. "Hunt."

"How?" said Xander. "What do we have that can kill the _devil_?"

"The Colt," said Sam, starting to catch the tail end of Dean's thrill of the hunt.

"The what?" asked Buffy.

"Good Lord," gasped Giles. "You don't mean the actual Colt?"

"Hell yeah," replied Dean. "If anything can kill the devil, this is it."

"Can someone explain what this Colt is?" said Buffy.

"Back in the day, Samuel Colt made a special gun with special bullets for a hunter," Bobby explained. "They say this gun can kill anything. And it has."

"You guys have used it before?" asked Buffy.

"It's how we killed Yellow-Eyes," said Dean.

"Yeah, but you've forgotten one thing, Dean," said Sam. "Bela stole it, remember? How are we gonna find it?"

"We track it down," said Dean. "Someone's gotta know something."

"Where do you suggest we start?" asked Buffy.

"Well, her deal was with Lillith, right?" said Dean. "I'm betting a crossroads demon or two were in on that deal as well. I say we summon one."

"Oh, yeah, I'm sure they'll be lining up to talk to us," muttered Sam.

"Cas, you okay?" asked Dean.

Buffy glanced over with everyone else and saw Castiel still standing where he had appeared, but he was now staring at the floor in confusion, eyes darting back and forth. He seemed to be listening intently to something.

"Cas?" Dean repeated. "Is it the angels? What're they saying?"

"They're talking about you, Dean," said Castiel, still staring intently at the floor.

Dean frowned in bewilderment. "Me? Why?"

"I-I don't—" Castiel did a sudden double take, face freezing as he strained to listen before his eyes slowly widened in comprehension and alarm. "Of course…It all makes sense…"

"What makes sense?" demanded Dean, getting freaked by the look on the angel's face.

"The reason why Heaven saved you from Hell," said Castiel, finally looking up at Dean. "Why the angels are focusing on you…"

"You wanna share with the class there?" said Dean.

"You are the Michael sword," Castiel told him, a look of dread and yet awe on his face.

"The what?" asked Dean, the frown returning.

"The sword is Michael's weapon against Lucifer, and before defeating the serpent, he must gain possession of it," Castiel explained. He hesitated before continuing. "Inhabit it."

Dean's eyes widened in realization. "Whoa, are you saying I'm his vessel?"

Castiel nodded once. "In order for Michael and Lucifer to meet on the chosen battlefield, they must possess their true vessels."

"Okay, so…we've found Michael's vessel," said Dean. "What about Lucifer's?"

Castiel hesitated, seemingly not wanting to break this next piece of news to them.

"Michael and Lucifer are brothers who must fight in order that Michael may kill Lucifer," Castiel told them. He looked up at Dean. "As it is in Heaven…" his gaze moved to Sam, "so it must be on Earth."

Sam's eyes widened. "Me? I'm Lucifer's vessel?"

Castiel nodded as he turned his head slightly to listen to his brethren again.

"Okay, we need some angel possessions charms or something," said Dean quickly. "Cas, you know of something like that?"

"There is no charm, amulet or sigil that can prevent an angel from inhabiting its vessel," said Castiel monotonously.

"Well, then, what the hell do we do?" exclaimed Dean, obviously freaked by the thought of Lucifer showing up any second to take his little brother.

"An angel cannot take possession of a vessel without their consent," Castiel stated, still staring into space.

"So, they can't possess us until we say yes?" asked Sam.

"Yes," answered Castiel.

"Don't you think that might have been a good thing to mention earlier?" grumbled Dean.

"It might have lessened some stress, yes," stated Castiel.

Dean rolled his eyes and waved his hand at Castiel. "I swear, there is no talking to him."

"So, we're back to the Colt hunt," said Buffy. "Now…how do you summon a crossroads demon?"

A knock came at the front door, and they all simultaneously turned to look at it before glancing at each other.

"Who could that be?" said Xander. "We're all here. Well, except Spike, but he doesn't usually knock."

Buffy headed to the front door and opened it to find a girl her height with blonde-and-brown streaked hair. The girl had been on her tiptoes, trying to peer in the small glass windows in the door, but the second Buffy opened the door, the girl instantly eased back down to her feet. She stared wide-eyed at Buffy and had kind of a crazed look about her.

"Can I help you?" asked Buffy.

"They are here, right?" the girl asked.

"Excuse me?" asked Buffy.

The girl barged past Buffy and hurried into the living room.

"Uh, hello?" blurted, Buffy, letting the door slam and following her.

The girl froze as she spotted Sam and Dean, her eyes wide and a breathless gasp escaping her slack jaw.

"You okay, lady?" Sam asked her.

"Sam…" the girl gasped, a look of pure awe on her face, "is it really you?"

Sam's eyes widened, and he glanced at Dean in confusion. The girl stepped forward and put her hand on his chest. Sam jumped a little and looked down at her hand.

"And you're so firm!" the girl exclaimed.

"Uh, do I know you?" asked Sam.

The girl stepped back from him. "No. But I know you. You're Sam Winchester. And you're—" her gaze flew to Dean, who was staring and maybe even glaring at her, "not what I pictured. I'm Becky. I read all about you guys."

Buffy watched Dean roll his eyes as Sam huffed in annoyance, and she knew Becky was talking about the _Supernatural_ books by Carver Edlund.

"And I've even written a few—" Becky broke off with an embarrassed, self-conscious laugh.

"So, this is one of the groupies from that prophet's books?" asked Xander.

"Looks like," muttered Sam.

"Anyway, Mr. Edlund told me where you were," said Becky.

Dean stepped closer to her. "Chuck?"

"He's got a message, but he's being watched," said Becky, smiling in a celebratory way. "Angels! Nice change-up to the mythology, by the way. The demon stuff was getting kind of old."

"Right," Sam brushed off. "Just, um…What's the message?"

"He had a vision," said Becky. She closed her eyes as she began to recite Chuck's message. "'The Michael sword is on Earth. The angels lost it.'"

Dean sighed in disappointment. "Yeah, we kind of already know that."

Becky deflated a little. "Oh…"

"Is that it?" asked Sam. "I have a hard time believing Chuck wouldn't have known we already heard that from Cas."

Becky shrugged. "That's what he told me to tell you. Well, that and a friend'll be dropping by later."

Sam perked up at that. "A friend. Who?"

"No clue," Becky shook her head. "He just said old friend."

"Well, you wouldn't by any chance know if that was literal 'old friend' or if it was one of those sarcastic 'old friend' that really means enemy?" Dean asked her.

Becky thought for a moment before shrugging.

"Well, that's just great," grumbled Dean. "For all we know, Yellow-Eyes or Alistair is gonna come busting through the door."

"Well, if they do, you'll just kick their ass," said Becky. "I mean, you are like Buffy now. Should be no problem."

"Whoa, how do you know that?" asked Dean.

"Well, he covered it in both series," Becky told him like it was obvious.

"Wait, **both** series?" asked Sam. "As in, another?"

"Yeah, the Buffy books," Becky told them.

"Uh, the Buffy, what now?" Buffy spoke up, stepping into Buffy's view.

"Chuck's other book series, _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_," Becky told them. "He wrote this one under the pen name Joss Whedon."

"He wrote a Slayer gospel?" asked Dean dubiously.

Becky nodded excitedly. "It spans from Buffy's arrival in Sunnydale to her sacrifice to close Glory's portal."

"Well, that's just great," Buffy muttered.

"By the way, I thought the break-up between you and Angel was so unfair," Becky told her. "If he thought he was so old for you, then he shouldn't have led you on in the first place."

"Alright, look!" Dean exploded. "We don't have time for Superfan22 to lecture us on why our life story sucks. We're kinda busy trying to track down the Colt."

"Oh, Crowley has it," said Becky.

Everyone froze and stared at her.

"What?" asked Dean.

"The crossroads demon Crowley," said Becky. "He has it."

They just continued to stare at her.

"In chapter thirty-three of _Supernatural_ 'Time Is On My Side,' there's that girl Bela?" said Becky. "She was British and a cat burglar."

"Yeah, we know," Sam cut her off.

"She stole the Colt from you and then she said she gave it to Lillith, remember?" said Becky.

"Yeah…" said Dean.

"Well, you know she lied, right?" said Becky. "She didn't really give it to Lillith."

"Wait, what?" said Sam, he and Dean getting really interested now.

"Didn't you read the book?" Becky exclaimed. "There was this one scene where Bela gives the Colt to a demon named Crowley, Lillith's right hand man. And I think her lover, too."

"Crowley," said Dean. "You're sure?"

"Oh, yeah," said Becky, looking positively thrilled to be helping out the Winchesters.

"Alright, well, thanks for the tidbit," said Dean. "We'll, uh…see ya around?" The look on his face strongly suggested he hoped not.

"Okay," said Becky. She turned towards the foyer, stopped and then turned back to them. "Just…Can I ask you for one thing?"

Dean rolled his eyes. "If you want a freaking autograph, I swear—" He was cut off as Becky suddenly pounced on him, wrapping him in a big bear hug. He groaned as he froze, discomfort written all over his face.

Sam laughed under his breath at Dean's predicament until Becky released Dean and latched onto Sam. Sam closed his eyes as Becky squeezed him tight. It seemed to be lasting longer than Dean's had.

"Uh, Becky…" said Sam, "you think you could, um…stop hugging me?"

"No," said Becky, her hands starting to run down his back.

Sam looked over at Dean, mouthing "help me!"

"Okay," said Dean, prying Becky off of him. "Time to go." He began ushering her towards the front door.

Becky looked back at Sam as Dean opened the door. "I'll dream of you, Sam!"

Dean shoved her out the door and slammed it, leaning his back against it. "Whew! Let's hope we don't run into one of those again." He made his way back into the living room. "So…crossroads demon Crowley has the Colt. Let's hunt him down."

*****************************SPN/BTVS************* ************************************************** *******

Willow stepped out into the backyard the next morning, heading over to the garden bench where Sam sat. "Needed some air?"

Sam looked up at her. "A little."

Willow sat next to him. "You doing okay?"

Sam huffed out a bitter chuckle. "I can't remember the last time I could answer that with 'yeah.'"

"Tough few weeks, huh?" asked Willow.

"Try a tough few years," said Sam.

"Ever since Jessica, right?" asked Willow.

Sam nodded slowly. "It just gets worse and worse, like it's…it's building little by little." He sighed long and hard. "This? This is what my entire life has been leading up to? Yellow-Eyes gave me demon blood so I could free Lucifer and be his vessel?"

"But you have a choice," Willow told him. "You don't have to be his vessel. **You're **in control."

Sam stared down at the ground for a moment. "Last few months, it hasn't really felt like that."

Willow frowned. "What do you mean?"

"It didn't feel like it at the time, but looking back…" began Sam. "I kept telling myself I was the one in control, but the truth is…the demon blood was. And it was leading me down a path I didn't want to go." He looked up at her. "I just didn't know it."

"Sam."

Sam glanced up to see Bobby at the back door.

"We need you in here," said Bobby, heading back inside.

Sam nodded and stood as Willow continued to stare at where he had been sitting, thinking through what Sam had just told her: how the demon blood had given him a façade of control as it lulled him further down his dark path towards Lucifer.

****************************************SPN/BTVS** ************************************************** *************

Sam stepped into the living room, finding Dean, Buffy and all the others deep in discussion about the hunt.

"We'll have devil's traps set up," said Dean. "You guys will keep watch with salt and holy water. Only as a last resort should you exorcize him."

"Got it," said Buffy.

Dean glanced up at Sam. "Sammy, good, we were just getting to battle plans. With any luck, we'll have the Colt back in our grasp before the end of the night."

"And when are you two ever lucky?"

Dean and Sam startled, turning to see the person who had spoken leaning nonchalantly against the foyer entryway, arms crossed.

"Oh, my God…" breathed Sam.

"Please," the Trickster smirked. "Call me Loki."

**You guys didn't think I would write an epic apocalypse story and not include Gabriel, did you?**


End file.
